Although I’ve only been in this small town and my first rented house just a little more than a month, I already have a solid evening schedule in place. In general, for those that are curious about what happens to a twenty-something who lives alone, this is what any evening of the week looks like. And it’s not glamourous, folks.
1. Walk in the door and kick off shoes into the pile in front of the door. This isn’t some Pinterest worthy entrance. Just literally a pile of everything I come in the door with. Bags, wallets, keys, umbrellas, an empty box from that great thing I ordered last week. I can be fancy when I (someday far away) get a mortgage, right?
2. Rummage through the kitchen cabinet for some eats. This usually means a breakfast or grilled cheese sandwich or some form of pasta. Maybe some steamed broccoli thrown in. If I’m feeling healthy I’ll try to convince myself that a carrot is all I really need. That never lasts though.. (Just wait for #4)
3. Settle in with a meal/snack amongst the many craft supplies — read: yarn — and find something worth watching on Hulu. Up until earlier this week, that was Community. But to my own devastation I ran out of episodes. (Oh NBC, are you feeling like it’s Oct. 19, yet? Please say yes!) Commence crocheting!
4. Give in to that jar of Nutella calling my name. Resistance really is futile.
5. Get tired of watching things on my tiny laptop screen. Opt for a movie to hopefully inspire faster crocheting. Choices: When Harry Met Sally, You’ve Got Mail or Pride and Prejudice. Play the one you haven’t watched in the last three days.
6. Realize there’s no Harry/Joe Fox/Mr. Darcy in my life. Sit and hope he materializes into my fuzz coated living room. Crocheting is quirky, cute and lovable, right?
7. Remember I’m no longer in college. Midnight is no longer an acceptable bedtime. Accept the fact and embrace the beauty of being in bed at 9 o’clock and not feeling like I’m missing all the great adventures being had by my adventuresome pals around campus.
And that, my friends, is a day of this little life. (OK, maybe #6 is an exaggeration. Maybe.)