While I hope not to always be single, I want to take advantage of the time that I have as one. Rather than bemoaning being single, I want to celebrate the good things about being single. I guess a lot of them apply to “single” in the “not-married” sense … rather than to “dating.” I’m sure you’ll get the idea.
Singing and Dancing
As a single with no roommates … I do a lot of singing and dancing I’m not sure anyone wants to see or hear, other than perhaps for its comedy factor. I start my morning belting out alternative rock in the shower … and almost anytime I’m driving – I’m singing. Sometimes I don’t sound half bad – and sometimes I am singing opera falsetto style to songs that definitely are not. My playlist has enough randomness on it to annoy almost anyone. Usually when someone is annoyed they refer to it as either “that loud punk stuff” (which it isn’t, by the way) or that “death metal crap” (ok, I might have one or two that would qualify). In case you are thinking that doesn’t sound like a strange playlist … throw in a couple of movie tunes, and 80s song, and a dash of Cash (as in, Johnny), and I’ll even own up to a theme from a video game. I can annoy anyone.
If I’m playing Rock Band II and get a little into it, as long as I have the patio door closed … nothing to be embarrassed about.
Then there is the dancing. I used to be on drill team, and I can’t hold a broom without twirling it. Cleaning is choreographed around my house – with the local flashback channel playing some old-school happy rap or a little Madonna … you can’t help but dust with panache. Vacuuming is like a waltz, mopping is a little jazzy, and the chrome in my bathroom just flashes.
My responsibility is pretty much to God, and me. That’s it. If I want to work overtime – I just stay late. No rearranging dinner (dinner itself is a whole ‘nother story by the way), no making sure someone else hasn’t already made plans for me, and no one’s feelings get hurt.
My schedule is wide open to let God pour himself out through me. Ten years ago if you asked how I’d feel about not having kids at 30 and not planning on having any – I’d say that couldn’t possibly be me. But here I am – and ever so thankful for it. Don’t get me wrong – I love kids. And I honestly love the fact that this way I can impact more than 2 or 3. I can be the awesome aunt, or the cool (if not slightly weird) adult that isn’t someone’s parent, I have the freedom to be open to God touching so many more lives than if I were raising a family of my own. Sure … kids will keep you young … but nobody ever said they had to be my own. And frankly – not feeding anyone, being woken up 10 times every night, not putting them to bed, or arguing with them about their text messaging habits – rocks. God will take care of the nursing home issue I’m sure.
I’ve heard your time described as a pie – and that you have to decide how you are going to divide it up. Without “family” (husband, kids, etc) I can go to God with the whole thing and ask how He’d like to see it sliced.
As a single woman – I get to be emotional almost anytime the mood hits me. If I’m having a quiet day, nobody really bugs me about what is wrong. If I want to spend the evening having a pity party in the bathtub until my fingers and toes are raisins … nobody is going to talk me out of it. And when the mood strikes me laugh uncontrollably at something that just struck me funny – nobody is around to tell me I’m crazy.
I don’t have to talk to anyone before that first cup of coffee when I get up on the wrong side of the bed … and if I wake up exuberant … I’m not bothering anyone.
I get to eat when I feel like it. I don’t have to worry about someone else being hungry, or wanting an actual meal rather than a bowl of soup. Granted – I also eat leftovers for about two weeks if I decide to cook something. If I want to have a picnic sandwich outside somewhere for dinner – nobody is going to think that is a weird idea. And if I’m not hungry – I just don’t worry about it.
The remote control. It is mine. If I want to watch a week’s worth of The Daily Show and Colbert Report … alternating, starting with Thursday and going back to Monday … I get to. I don’t bother paying for cable. I have Netflix, and if I want to watch a documentary, an independent film, or a crappy horror movie – nobody is gonna question my selection. If I want to give myself an at home facial while watching Formula 1 racing and reading a book – I’m the only one that laughs at me.
The air conditioner … I get to pick the temperature. If I decide I don’t care if it is going to raise my bill to make it cold at night when I sleep – I just do it. If I decide that I don’t care that it is hot, I don’t want the A/C blowing on me – I can turn it off.
And this is when it hits me. A lot of these things … if I’m not compromising or settling … I’m not going to have to give them up even if/when my single status changes. Sure, I’ll have to be more considerate, and being in a relationship takes work … but that doesn’t mean I can’t do a little step-vault-change across the kitchen as I wipe down the countertop while singing Metallica to the sink, or that I have to stop sleeping with a nameless stuffed octopus under one arm.