Deserted for a week

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Mr M has gone skiing for a week. Without me.

Before I go any further, I should tell you that when this came about, I was fully in support of it. I wanted him to go and have a lovely time as he doesn’t really go out with his friends all that much. So it’s not like he swept off without a backward glance – he had my blessing.

So I guess I’m overreacting slightly with the deserted title. I’m prone to that sometimes, sorry.

But I do really feel deserted. Pathetic aren’t I?

Mr M and I have been together just shy of five years now and I’m quite often away with work for a few nights, or hen weekends, stag weekends, etc. But we have never been apart for a week before and I’m usually the deserter.

He’s only been gone three days and I’m missing him like crazy. Likely to be spurred on by hormones in part, but when my mum called on Saturday afternoon, to see if I was lonely and if I wanted to go over for Sunday lunch, I promptly burst into tears.

Before I met Mr M, I’d been on my own for a long time. I lived on my own, depended on myself and was quite happy. What has happened to that independent woman?!

There’s been pros and cons so far to being home alone…

When you make a batch of risotto, have a plateful for dinner, there is still the rest of the batch there and it hasn’t been inhaled by the man. Meaning, no cooking and minimal washing up the next day or two. Hurrah.

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You can spend two hours in the bathroom without constant visitors trying to fathom what on earth you could be doing. (In case you’re wondering – hair dyed, bikini line waxed, face mask complete, finger and toe nails filed and painted, full body exfoliation and a great long soak in the bath with the new Marian Keyes novel…. Bliss).

When you clean the house, if you don’t mess it up yourself, it’s still clean and tidy when you get in, without beer cans, dirty plates etc on the side, dirty shirts hanging over the laundry basket, and loose change on every surface.

You can burn your favourite candles to your heart’s content with nobody wrinkling up their nose.

Faffing with your new blog design and not getting it right (any advice on themes GREATLY appreciated btw), isn’t met with an nosy man reading over your shoulder. And you can use the entire sofa as your desk with nobody to moan about it.

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But, I’ve got to admit – I’d give up all of those pros to combat the biggest con – no cuddles! And no support, nobody to make me laugh, to debrief about my day and to look forward to seeing when you get in. Roll on Saturday!

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