My single life fantasy

Yesterday a friend mine pointed out a single friend of his on Facebook.  He mentioned that she is quirky and funny and is single by choice.  Afterwards, I found myself delving into a self gratifying fantasy about what it would be like to be single.  I felt kind of guilty about this... for about three seconds and then I got lost in it.

This sounds so appealing to me because I was a habitual long term dater.  My first boyfriend was at the age of 7. His name was Noah and I liked him because his name was so similar to mine.   If only it were that easy, following Noah was Adam, Connor, Brian, Billy, Bruce, Adam II, Matt, John, Matt II Tom, Mike, a few other people, Adam III Greg, Greg II, Jon, Matt III, Mike II, Chad, Scott, (that who shall not be named), Oliver, Alex, David, Chad II, and finally Don at the age of 22.
They all string together with the longest stretch being about 3 months.  Apparently I liked guys with the same name too.  It wasn't that I was afraid of being alone,  I just really liked boys. And I have been very honest in sharing that I get along better with guys, even to this day. I'm thankful that my husband understands this. It took awhile, but he has had front row seats to a few of my train wreck of female relationships.  He prefers that I avoid the drama.  He was literally in the middle of a cat fight between my roommate and me about a couch cover and it scarred him for life.  Maybe that is why God never gave me a daughter.

Anyway, I honestly never thought of what it would like to be completely single until today.

If I were single I would probably still work out at 5 a.m. but would get up earlier because I would have to pick out my outfit to look cute and possibly do my hair.   I don't do that now, my poor friends who see me every day looking exactly what I looked like sleeping 20 minutes prior, except upright.

I would live in a cute apartment that would stay clean all the time because nobody would be there to mess it up except me.  Which would free up an enormous amount of time because I spend half of my free time now cleaning and picking up legos and socks.  Which means I could read a book... or two or three! Concluding, that being single would make me smarter. 

I would take a shower without an audience, unless I wanted one. I could look in the mirror, and see my belly button looking normal and where it is suppose to be in my torso. I won't even fantasize about what my single self's boobs would look like.  I would wear cute clothes to work that didn't have kleenex in the pockets. And I would wear matching bra and underwear sets.  My underwear drawer is in the state of emergency, so many holes, I don't know which are leg ones anymore. And speaking of work, I would leave 5 minutes before I had to be there and arrive on time.  I would drive a two-seater.

I would watch the OWN channel whenever I wanted and Dateline on repeat.  I would stock my refrigerator with only healthy food and not all the other crap the other people like to eat which tempts me into eating it and then feeling guilty about it.

I would go to happy hour.  I would see a movie. I would go out.  It wouldn't matter where, just out.  I would use a basket while shopping instead of a cart.  I would carry a small purse without 100 year old fruit snacks stuck to the bottom.

Now this is where my fantasy gets a little sensetive so if you are my husband and are reading this, please skip this part.
I would date.  I haven't "dated" since 2000 and I'm sure in the age of social media, things have changed.  But I would go on dates with anyone and everything.  Men, women, black, white, red, purple and orange, rich, poor, old and young(ish) .  Dating doesn't have to be romantic, it can just be fun, getting out of your comfort zone to see what other people find interesting and exploring places you would have never dreamed to go to.

I would sleep.  Honestly, I think that is what this entire fantasy boils down to.  I'm tired.  I haven't had a real nights sleep since I was 25.  As a non-single person I find my self less worried about missing out  (FOMO) and more worried about not getting enough sleep (FOMS). When I wake up I try and calculate how many hours I actually slept and the results are never satisfactory.  Then I stress about the fact that I haven't slept a solid 7 hours and think about it all day and blame this to be the reason I make mistakes, have wrinkles and eat muffins.

My fantasy started to turn South when I realized that my single self wanted kids and I was now entering the age of "advanced maternity".  And how in the world was I going to find someone to procreate with before my fertile years were past me?  And would someone think all my weirdness was cute or annoying?  And living in the Midwest are there any men who are not married around here?

I started to have an anxiety attack and decided that the single life may be good for some, but not for me.  I like to be taken care of. To have someone reach the top shelf or protect me from murders who break into our house. Or actually, a pot rack falling from the ceiling that I thought was a murderer coming to kill me. At least Don reacted quickly to the threatening sauce pan as I froze in terror.

And truthfully, would I really know how to sleep with out a knee in my rib cage or a butt in my face? Probably not.  My brain was telling me to mentally abort this fantasy.  Fantasizing isn't bad, it doesn't hurt anyone and it can really make you appreciate what you have.  Even if it's sticky, dirty little hand perfectly fit inside of yours like a nesting doll.  Exactly where it should be just like me.