Next week, I shall be moving into my new flat. At the moment, I am caught up in the minutiae – packing everything six levels deep, with the top and most accessible layer made up of the things I’ll need immediately – socks, tea, clean pants, deodorant and my radio. But I know that when I move in it will be worth it. I’ll finally be living by myself, alone. Nothing will move unless I move it. Nobody will finish the milk unexpectedly. I will stack my newspaper supplements waist-high and no one will mind. I will dry my underwear on radiators with gay abandon. And it will be awesome.
As little as three years ago, the idea of living alone terrified me. I’m a telly fiend – would I ever leave the house if there was no-one to rouse me? If I got sick, who would insist I eat dry toast and hold my hair back while I puked? Who could I send out to get emergency ice cream? Loo roll? Egads, tampons?! I’m still a little overwhelmed by these questions but I am choosing not to dwell on them. It achieves nothing at this stage and like I said in last Thursday’s post – it’ll get done. Because it needs to get done.
Late on Saturday night/Sunday morning, I came across this video via India Knight’s Posterous. It’s called How To Be Alone. I hit play expecting the twee-est thing in the world, beloved of hipsters in Williamsburg and Silverlake, a sort of lite version of Baz Luhrmann’s Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen). I girded my loins for the worst… but I found the video to be quiet and lovely; little suggestions that make being alone okay. It’s not a cray-cray manifesto for the militantly single. Just a few things to remember and try out. What do you think?