I know a woman who has been married for 16 years, and in that length of time she has never spent a single weekend alone. She told me this in the entirely too quiet office space we shared, as the nearby construction noises outside created a dull soundtrack for what I suspect should have been a romantic statement. This cringe-worthy remark (in my opinion) was brought up because the following weekend, she said, her husband was going to be out of town and for the fist time in 16 years she was going to have a whole weekend to think only of herself. I asked her what she was going to do, and she said 'nothing!' with the smile of someone who truly deserved to do nothing but sit alone in her house, in nothing but her panties, drinking a fishbowl sized glass of red wine, reading whatever smutty magazine her heart desires without judgement, time restrictions or obligations crashing through her fortress of simple solitude. I was about to say this to her, in case she had not thought of this blissful scenario as she packed up her things and got ready to go. However when I looked up from my current mindless task, I noticed her staring into space. So I said nothing. "I might just sit on the front pouch," she said- not to me or anyone else in the office, but to someone she had not given any time or thought in 16 years- "and stare up at the sky."
|This is my cousin, NOT the woman in the story, who is in fact fictional.|