The Top 9 Reasons Why Being Single is Fabulous…
The Middle of the Bed- It’s a place where comfort resides, his snoring is absent and the risk of rolling over and falling off at either end is non-existent.
Beer. There is no one to count the number of beers you drank. And with that, I don’t have to hear him say, “Did you leave me any?” Why ask that when you already know the answer?
Movies. Do I know every word to Coal Miner’s Daughter? Why, yes, I do. Can I sing every single lyric in Urban Cowboy? You betcha. Do I cry at Steel Magnolias,
The Rodeo. I can watch it and while shouting out the score “I think” he got given his time and form, I can also yell out comments such as “I’m adding 1.3 points for the Wranglers!” and not hear “What if I wore Wranglers?” Um, are you on a bull? No, you’re on my couch. Shut your face.
The Repeat Button the i-pod. That moment when you hear a song and realize, “Wow, I want to hear that another 53 times in a row.” He is not there to say, “I’m tired of Keith Whitley right now, can you turn that down?” And I don’t have to deal with the consequences of saying, “I’m kind of tired of hearing your voice and seeing your face, but did I say anything?”
Baseball Season. Don’t talk to me during a game. I don’t want to discuss your day at work or what your mom said to your aunt about your second cousin twice removed. I don’t want to hear about your plans for the weekend or the cute little bistro you think we should try. For 9 nine innings I can yell, scream, curse, clap, happy-dance, and make inappropriate comments about a Short-Stop without having to hear any other noise. Bliss.
Fine Dining. What’s for dinner? Whatever. I. Want. Easy Mac with a Ringpop? Why not? Cereal straight from the box without a spoon? Who is going to say anything? Sitting on top of the kitchen counter verbally reasoning with myself that Skittles count as “fruit” and therefore are a complete meal? Absolutely. It’s my food pyramid and I don’t have to conform to the so-called “eating habits” of another human being.
Framed Photographs. A photo of the Core Four holding the 2009 World Series Trophy. An 8x10 glossy of Chris Young personally signed. A photo of Jason Aldean in his cowboy hat and button down shirt. The Brunettes. The Opry Stage. These are all things that I enjoy having framed in my apartment. I do not enjoy hearing, “Let’s take more pictures of us so we can put them on your nightstand, desk and bookshelf.” Again, don’t you have your own home you can decorate Martha?
Showering. Simply put, I can shut the door to the bathroom. I can put on Chris Young’s “Gettin’ You Home” very loudly. And then I can close my eyes and pretend that this is what is ACTUALLY occurring outside the door while I get ready. J http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWP7ZtVLPd4&ob=av2e