Miss Independent

Now you all have that Kelly Clarkson song in your head.  Sssssssorry.

Anyway, this weekend the husband is out of town on his annual road trip to Indiana to visit a college friend.  It's one of the rare occasions when we're away from each other for more than a night, so I have a few days to myself at home.  Of course I have plans made- happy hour tonight with Barra, and cousin/pedis/shopping/couch/wine/snacks time tomorrow with Cleen- but for the most part I'm on my own.

And I'm actually like, really, really looking forward to it.

This is nothing against my husband, not at all.  I love spending time with him and having him around, of course.  I miss him when he's not there, making me laugh at night before we go to sleep and stuff.  I'll be very happy when he gets home safely on Sunday afternoon.

But it's weird to me how much I've changed over the past several years.  God, I used to completely panic at the thought of being alone.  It was strange, because I have always considered myself fairly independent.  Except about calling to order pizza, I hate doing that.  There was a strange period of time in my mid-to-late twenties though when I couldn't bear the thought of just sitting around the house by myself, especially on a Friday or Saturday night.  I always had to have some sort of plans or schedule.  Always.  It's almost painful and embarrassing to think back about those times.

But now...now the thought of an evening in, just enjoying the quiet and my dumb TV shows and perhaps writing or reading a bit is like the best thing ever.  Does this mean I'm old?  Probably.  But regardless, no longer do I panic over the thought of chilling out by myself with no one to talk to but the cat.  I love it.  I totally look forward to my "Joanna" time and cherish those rare moments when I can just sit and be me, all by myself.