Home alone

So for the first time in many (many) months, I have an entire house to myself. My darling blue-eyed husband is off making hair-pin turns over mountain passes with a similarly testosterone-riddled crowd for the weekend, leaving me with days of empty time for some serious decompression. We just moved into a new place, so decorating and general unpacking has been high on the agenda, though I quickly shirked box-duty and spent most of last night learning the entire 6-minute dance to "Thriller" with some girlfriends. (In case you were wondering, yes, I am in fact an adult.) I love people, but I also relish my solitude. Taking a day completely at your own speed (as today was for me), driven by your every (somewhat reasonable) whim, no one to consult with, can be incredibly liberating. I even take special joy in occasionally going to movies or out to eat by myself. Some find this strange, but I encourage you to try it sometime - you might surprise yourself. One thing I absolutely detest about having the house to myself, however, is trying to fall asleep. It is currently 2:24am and I am writing at this moment in avoidance of turning out the lights and trying not to listen to the bumps and creaks of our new abode as I try desperately to slip into unconsciousness. I swear to you, it's like I'm 5 years old. My solution? Leave all the lights on in the house and sleep with an eye-mask - that way, if I hear a sudden noise, I can simply whip the mask off and immediately ascertain my surroundings. Not sure exactly what kind of action I could take in my pj's and without a weapon, but hey, I do have a year's worth of kung-fu under my belt...