Lonely house

I got back to Brooklyn on Thursday night and have been living in my three-bedroom brownstone all alone since then. My roommates don’t return from their respective family’s until tomorrow morning.

At first it was lonely, living by myself. No one to chat with over dinner. No one to laugh with at the idiocy of the characters on Real World Denver (oh my god, did anyone watch the premiere… dude, don’t even get me started).

But after a few days, I’ve gotten used to the solitude, and I have to admit that I’m starting to enjoy the freedom of it – leaving the door open when I go to the bathroom, watching reruns of Roseanne at full volume at 3am, running through the house naked and rolling around in my roommates’ sheets.

Cate, Claire, I love you both dearly. And if there’s any weird scents on your pillows, I promise that it had nothing to do with me. See you tomorrow!