About an hour ago, my family walked out the door and left me home all by myself. I feel like the teenager whose parents decide he/she is ready to be at home solo. They're going on an overnight to Pennsylvania to attend a party at my niece's house. I do have the dogs with me, but as they've never been trained to handle anything more than sit/stay/et cetera, they're not going to be very useful to me in an emergency. Not that I'm planning on having one. No, I'm planning on enjoying this sun-filled warmish day. I'll go running after I write this. Reading, writing, researching, knitting are all on my agenda. I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want to. Don't worry, I'm not planning to do too many illegal activities. Mark will be back from his track meet late tonight, so I'll have someone to argue with tomorrow.
Marty vacuumed and washed the tile floor last night, relieving some of his guilt about leaving me home. He claims he did it because the floor looked disgusting, which it did. I'd already planned on donning an industrial strength mask today and doing it myself. Maybe he knew that.
There's something very positive in all this. A month ago, Marty wouldn't have gone away for the weekend, leaving me home. Now, he feels he can do so and that I'll be all right. And I will be all right. That's an accomplishment.