This was my last week of classes.  I have two finals next week - organic chemistry on Monday morning, biology II on Friday evening.  (Why the hell couldn’t they be switched?  Organic chem will be 200 points of reactions, spectroscopy, and mechanisms.  Bio II will be 50 multiple choice questions, mostly on three chapters I knew before taking the class.)

I’m also a week late with my final project for the Costa Rica class.

So, with that in mind and aspiring to at least not wreck my ‘B’ (dare I hope for an ‘A’?), I’ve taken tomorrow off from the sanctuary.  ST will work most of the day, meaning I’m free to study without yummy distractions.

I’ll be alone.

Glory be.

I love him.  I love spending time with him.  When I’m not with him, I want to be where he is.

But.

I spent three years living alone.  Before my first marriage* (lasting a whopping two and a half years), I had lived alone for another three. 

I’m sayin’, I’m a girl who likes the alone time.

And yes, sometimes I wonder if the marriage would have gone smoother if we’d had more “me” time.  Although honestly, we didn’t have much “us” time either.  I also sometimes  wonder if we concocted our schedules that way because we knew what happened was inevitable.  And I do believe that.  That it was meant to end.  I have consider ways we could have been nicer to each other, ways the marriage could have been shorter, and perhaps longer, but never a solution.

These days, it’s a little ridiculous to say I don’t get “me” time.  I am taking two classes and a lab.  Three days a week I have several hours at the house to do as I please.

Except it’s not as I please.  It’s that the laundry must be done.  The perscription must be picked up enroute to school.  The groceries enroute back.  The dishes unloaded between classes.  The project worked on in the morning.  The dinner worked on in the evening.

Not to mention any full free day is usually given to the sanctuary or my grandparents.  ST gets Sundays.  I treasure our Sundays, even if it’s just browsing the flea market and ensuring we get our $14 worth from Netflix.

Tomorrow will be the first day I’ve taken off in over two months.  (I’ll admit to a bit of indulguence with Sheba’s death).  Yes, it is to study.  Yes, I will do housework.  But I don’t have to leave the house at all if I don’t want to.  No project to work on.  No class to attend.  No tour to smile for.  No person nudging me for more couch space.

I can stay in this Cobra commandor T-shirt (Thanks, TG!) and Carnegie Mellon  sweatpants for the next twenty-four hours if I want!

Let’s see how much anyone wants to hang out with me after that…

*Saying first marriage seems so tacky.  Yet there will be second.  I might have even perused rings this past week…