Sunday, 24 January 2010 12:18 Written by Lezlie Laws

The worst thing about living alone is when you come home late afternoon on a Friday, and sit out on the back deck with a glass of wine, you sometimes think the spectacular blue streak of the jay swooping over the yard is not quite as spectacular as it might be if someone were sitting with you.

Or when you make a new soup--like lentil and sweet potatoes with onions and garlic and carrots, curry and a little bit of Greek oregano from your garden—and it’s really delicious, and then you eat a bowl standing in front of the TV instead of sitting at the dining room table with a cloth napkin and a nice pinot noir.

Or when you get a powerful urge for Ben and Jerry’s coffee ice cream with chunks of Heath bars buried in it, which you would never, ever keep in the house, there’s no one who says, “Honey, I’m running up to the grocery store.  Need anything?

Or when you put clean sheets on the bed and iron the pillowcases so they’re smooth and soft to your cheek, and there’s no one to mess them up.

Or when you wash your hair and use the Moroccan oil on it so it’s shiny and soft and falls around your face like it did when you were little, and no sees how frivolous and loose it makes you feel.

Or when you come down to the kitchen in the morning to find the amaryllis bulb exploded into five outrageously frilly pink blooms over night, and you drink your coffee and smile, but it’s kind of a fake smile.

Or when you’re teary because you miss your mother, and there’s no one to sit real still sit next to you for a while.

Or when you’re deep to the bone tired but there’s still so much to do, and you have to tell yourself to slow down, breathe, and eat the roses.

Or when your favorite song comes up in your Ipod scramble, and you feel excited energy rising in you, you slip into your rock star self and begin to dance and sing,

“Hey, I put some new shoes on and suddenly everything is fine.

Hey, I put some new shoes on and everybody’s smiling, it’s so inviting. 

I’m short on money but long on time, slowly strollin’ in the sweet sunshine. 

I’m runnin’ late but don’t need an excuse.  I’m wearin’ my brand new shoes.”  

You sing at the top of your lungs and you fling yourself around the house with joy and abandon.   You’re quite sure Twila Tharpe would want to use you in her next dance concert if she only knew about you.

Everyone knows that learning to dance alone is one of the hardest things you will do in your life.