Daily Newsie

Eww. I’m two days into The Fiance’s five-day business trip and I’m already stir-crazy and unable to sleep. My plans for this evening with a former coworker fell through — that newspaper is still ruining my social life even though I haven’t worked there for nine months — so I played the Sims for a while, read a magazine, watched Hell’s Kitchen, and ate the following: a cookie, a string cheese, several marinated mushrooms from the olive bar at Kroger, some jelly beans, a few bites of ice cream, and a handful of Tostitos. I’m listless and lonely and still have four nights to go. How utterly pathetic.

I used to really love living by myself, in cute one-bedroom apartments with my tiny TV and broken-down computer desk that creaked under the weight of that gargantuan monitor. I could come and go at any time of the day or night without leaving a note; I hosted dinner parties on the floor for my bachelor friends and housed a temporary roommate on the futon without worrying what someone else had to say about it. I slept in the exact middle of my Ikea bed, one arm flung wide and the other clutching Bearby, and never had to close the bathroom door.

I thought for sure I would sleep better without The Fiance’ here (I wouldn’t be woken up by a 4 a.m. alarm, for one thing) but last night I tossed and turned on a mattress that suddenly felt king-sized. I feel silly — there are far worse things than business trips — and girly and juvenile, but that won’t stop me from taking a Tylenol PM to give Mr. Sandman a kick in the posterior tonight. At least tomorrow night is Karaoke Night at a local bar with my college friends, and I’m sure some pizza and Shiner Bock will do me good.