I said "Brrrr", it's cold in here.

This is one for the books.  When one is in grad school and stressed out and writing really terrible term papers, one sometimes needs a long, hot bath.  So Saturday afternoon, that's what I did.  I'm relaxing in the tub, when I start to hear all this commotion in the stairwell.  Neighbors talking--there's a knock on my door.  Apparently, my bath-taking has flooded the bathroom below me.  And the store below that.  No big deal, right?  I turn off the bath, call the plumber (who is also the landlord).  They won't come til Monday.  And by the way, don't use the tub until then.  Ok.  So I make the trek to my sister's place to shower before a night out.

So Saturday night's good.  A good play, some drinks, a little karaoke.  I get home to my tub-less apartment.  Which now feels a little chilly.  Ok.  Frigid.  The heat is out.  Seriously.  And it's 1 am so what can you do?  I put on 20 layers, grab an extra blanket and head to bed.  Still calm (or buzzed and tired).

It wasn't until Sunday morning that I realized just how cold it was.  I woke up and needed to keep the layers on.  And make another phone call to the landlord.  They need to get a different part.  Monday.  Seriously.  So, back to my sisters, to do some work without the shivering.

I'm a trooper though.  I can survive a little cold for another night.  So I buy a space heater.  Which then proceeds to blow a fuse.  So now, no tub, no heat, no electricity.  And there's no way I can stay here for a night.  (The fuse box, by the way, is in my Blair Witch basement.  There's no lights.  And not an option at 11 pm.)  I go back to my sisters (another 25 minute drive) and sleep on the couch.

Now, I am grateful for the fact that I have a place to stay.  But the whole time all I could think about was how my closest place to stay would be 20 minutes away.  There is no one closer than that who would even think to offer me a bed to stay in.  And it's just another reminder of being alone and how sad it can actually seem.  When a lightbulb needs to be changed.  When a picture needs to be hung.  When that damn jar just won't open.  Alone.  The majority of my friends are in relationships.  And while I am happy for them, it is getting to the point where it's really hard to hear about the happiness all the time.  To be the girl who needs to listen to relationship issues and give advice, because really, should I be giving advice?

I will never be the girl who talks to her single friend about her relationship without a second thought to her feelings.  Maybe it doesn't seem like a big deal, but every time that I have to hear about someone and their relationship (no matter how happy I am for you) it is a reminder that I am not in a relationship.  I have had to learn to take care of myself.  To open that jar that just won't open.  To climb to places that I cannot physically reach because of sheer necessity.  To go to eat breakfast out alone, because everyone else is sleeping in on a Sunday morning with--you guessed it--their boyfriends.

I am happy for my independence.  I would be a completely different person if I was one of those girls who was always in a relationship.  But it makes me wonder if I am too independent.  I can do it myself, so why do I need someone else to do it for me?

Someday, it will all be figured out.  I can only hope that I am not 45 in an apartment with no tub, no heat, and no electricity.  And no where else to go.