This week, my parents went on vacation and left me with the responsibility of watching the house and the dog. Easy, right? Feed the dog, don’t burn the house down, do whatever you want within reason. I’m not the type to throw wild parties or have a parade of hookups, and my parents know this. The most I do is bring my laptop into the family room and refuse to use headphones.

This week has taught me some things, though.

It’s nice to be alone sometimes.

I hardly get the house to myself. There’s usually always someone in the house, except for when my step-mom goes out to the store. It’s nice to have a week to just relax and do things at my own pace. Sure, I’m getting up around 8 a.m. every day so I can let the dog out in the morning, but past that, everything is done at my own pace. That’s not something I really feel I get to do with people in the house, for some odd reason.

I’m better at remembering to feed the dog than remembering to feed myself.

I’ve noticed this before, but the fact never ceases to amuse me. I’m better at feeding the dog than I am at feeding myself. During the day, when I’m home alone, I tend to eat small amounts throughout the entire day. I don’t sit down and have breakfast, lunch and dinner. I just eat when I’m hungry and stop when my hunger is sated. Sometimes though, I’ll get wrapped up in the Internet or a TV show and forget to eat, even though I’m hungry. But I never fail to check the clock just in time to realize “Oh, it’s time to feed the dog.”

I am capable of doing laundry, even though I never do laundry

This one may seem a little silly, but it’s a comfort to know that, if need be, I could do my own laundry. Washer, dryer, folding, the whole nine yards. I had to wash my work clothes this week. While I may have used a little bit too much detergent and forgot the dryer sheets, I was still rewarded with warm, clean, dry clothes to wear to work. It’s the little things that make me realize that I’m a functioning adult and can support myself. At least for a week. Which brings me to my last point.

I want a roommate when I get my own place.

It’s nice to be alone sometimes, but as the week goes on I find myself actually looking forward to my parents returning. I don’t know if it’s because the house feels almost too big without them and the noises of living or if I’m just slightly starved for human interaction outside of work. I’m in no rush to move out, I’m very comfortable where I am, but I know that moving out is a step that I will have to take eventually. And, when I do take that step, I don’t want to be alone for it. I’m hoping that I can have a friend as a roommate, but I know that I could make due with a stranger — within reason.

Having the house to myself is nice, but I am eager for things to return to normal. I’m sure my dog feels the same way, she’s probably

sick of my taste in music and TV.

(Voltron: Legendary Defender. AKA my current obsession)