Being Alone, or Why I am Still Five

When Matt goes out of town for work, I think about how nice it would be to have a puppy. Just the simple company of an animal, I think, would preclude any jumpiness and anxiety at night. My little companion could follow me all over the house. Granted, I don't want a dog at this stage of my life. Flexibility for random hours or weekend trips are here to stay for a while, plus it's not affordable right now. More simply, I realize how much of an extrovert I am and how much I appreciate companionship.

That's why last night I had the random idea to return a small, soft squirrel stuffed animal to my computer desk, where he had been stationed for the latter part of my thesis writing to keep me company at my old apartment during many late nights writing. I told Matt about this new development on the phone the other night and when we got off the phone, I was giddy from getting to hear his voice and very content. I took my squirrel friend downstairs with me and we watched another episode of Seinfeld together. The squirrel was my constant companion. He followed me when I refilled my water, checked my email, and tucked me in when it was time for bed. The simple act of playing with a stuffed animal was soothing and fun, though of course I still can't wait for Matt's return.

Yup. I am still a wacky five-year-old.