Why is it that I get so much more accomplished when my housemates are gone? They've gone to visit their homeland this weekend. The second load of laundry is almost done, the fridge is cleaned out and all the moldy dishes are washed and put away, cleaning and reorganizing is in process, I've done a bit of reading. Maybe it is because I can get up early, linger over one cup of coffee, play loud dance music, absorb the high energy, and get stuff done without worrying about being in someone's way.
It is nice to have the house to myself occasionally. It seems bigger. I miss all the laughter, but there is a different kind of mood that shows up--a slightly more reflective sense of moving through the hours of the weekend, a quieter enjoyment of a place that belongs to me (and the bank!).