Talking to my Dog: WFH

As an older sister with two younger brothers, I dreamed of having my own space. I fantasized about a home where my things remained exactly as I left them, untouched and unbroken, my leftovers uneaten, and the counters un-sticky. As soon as I could (barely) afford my own place, I jumped. I moved out on my own, with my scruffy little dog I got for free. 

At first I reveled in the silence. I loved coming home to peace, so distinctly different from the chaos of my childhood home. No yelling, no running, no soccer balls to trip over, no dishes piled in the sink or papers on the counter. 

But, there wasn’t laughter either. There wasn’t something warm and delicious baking in the oven, no off-key singing from the shower upstairs, and I was never greeted with a “how was your day, sweetie?”

Now that I am really single, without a situationship crutch to lean on, I am sitting in silence. I wake up alone, I eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner alone, I work alone, I watch TV alone, and I go to sleep alone. I go to parties and events alone, I grocery shop alone, I buy birthday presents alone, I pay bills alone. It’s isolating, it’s lonely- it’s hard. 

I miss the love, the joy, the feeling of coming home to people who love you. I even miss the chaos, just a little bit. I miss feeling useful and valued, of supporting a home in progress. 

Of course, I have friends, I love them dearly, and my parents are just a phone call away. And my dog, my sweet Sophie, makes everything better. 

But there is something to living with another person, especially if you don’t get the normal 9-5 experience with co-workers to talk to. There are times when I look up from my laptop and realize I haven’t spoken to another person all day. I’ll ask my dog, “you still love me, right?” 

I need that human interaction, that connection with other people. I’m not sure what the solution is right now. I do what I can- I go to coffee shops, I go to trivia weekly, I go to the gym with my workout buddy, I plan big things to look forward to. And that’s all I can do, take each day at a time. It’s funny though, that the years I wished away are all I wish for now.