What I Did with 45 Hours of Solitude: A Personal Reflection

pregnant woman holding paper hearthome insemination kit

The opportunity for 45 uninterrupted hours to myself was a surprise. Initially, I was set to travel to Charleston to accompany my sister and her newborn to visit their father. However, plans shifted unexpectedly, leaving me free. I canceled my dog’s grooming appointment, my son had already gone off to his grandparents’, and I waved goodbye to my husband as he departed for a business trip.

In that moment, it felt as if the heavens had opened up, and I was enveloped in a wave of blissful solitude. I was entirely alone in the house, free from the constant calls for help or inquiries about misplaced items.

For once, I could indulge in my favorite TV shows without worrying about the content. No more rapid channel surfing to avoid kids’ programming like cartoons or action films. I could leave the television running all night, dozing off on clean linens in the guest room, lulled by the sounds of late-night infomercials, with snacks at hand for any midnight cravings.

I envisioned making a batch of chocolate chip cookies loaded with walnuts—my son’s least favorite—and adding an abundance of chocolate-covered caramel bits that he wouldn’t touch. I could savor each cookie without sharing, enjoy popcorn for dinner, and finish off the night with cheesecake while binge-watching “NCIS” on loop with my laptop resting on my lap.

Comfort was key; I would lounge in pajama pants and a tank top without a care in the world. The prospect of watching romantic comedies, sleeping in until noon, and luxuriating in long bubble baths danced in my mind. This was a fantasy for a 52-year-old woman juggling an 8-year-old granddaughter, an elderly father in her backyard, and a traveling husband.

This was my chance to read without interruptions, to delve into chapters without pausing to find lost socks or answer endless “Why?” questions. As I formulated a plan for my 45 hours alone, I pretended to feel remorseful for the absence of my family, crafting a narrative of missing them while secretly relishing the opportunity to embrace solitude.

After settling in at home, I turned on the television, opened my laptop, and began watching Hallmark movies I had recorded. Time slipped away unnoticed until I woke up four hours later, my laptop drained, my recording finished, and a sore neck reminding me of my unintended nap.

At that point, I called my daughter, asking if she might want to come home earlier than planned. After all, we had chocolate chip cookies to bake and a spa day to arrange.

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In summary, my brief taste of solitude was a whimsical escape from daily responsibilities, filled with guilty pleasures, relaxation, and the joy of indulging my own whims.

Keyphrase: 45 hours of solitude
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