This weekend was the first weekend in a few months with no plans and no company. It was utter bliss, and it caused me to realize something about myself:
I like living alone.
I like waking up when the sun tickles my nose. I like bringing my coffee back to bed. I like lounging around in a flannel shirt all day long. I like heading out to the gym when the mood strikes and coming home whenever I damn well feel like it. I like eating frozen pizza and drinking apple cider and watching DVDs in bed and doing whatever I damn well please whenever I damn well want. I like heading out to a chocolate-tasting party and making future plans, knowing that no one else will be weighing in on what I can/should/will be doing at any given time.
Not that, if the right prince turned up, I wouldn't be flexible ... but it certainly would take a prince.
Am I getting too set in my ways? I don't know, but it works for me.