Go to bed when I wanted. Get up when I wanted, at least on weekends. Eat what I wanted, when I wanted. I lived by myself as a young single person and could get away with a lot.
Sometimes on a Saturday or Sunday, I’d sleep until 10 or 11, have breakfast, go back to bed with a book for a few more hours, have supper (or have another breakfast), and go back to bed. That was a real luxury.
Sometimes I’d come home from work at 6:00, fall straight onto the bed, sleep until 11 p.m., get up and eat, and go back to bed.
Hmm, there seems to be a pattern there. Yes, I worked hard, and I had a boyfriend who was around wanting attention most of the time, and so I really needed to crash when I could.
Probably the best thing was just not having to explain. I could put off doing the laundry, have cereal for supper, spend the rent money on a new couch, and eat out when I was broke, and I didn’t have to justify it to anybody. I loved that. Most of the new bed linens and towels and underwear I acquired over those years were bought when everything I already owned was in the laundry hamper.
Not that I couldn’t do most of those things now (and probably do, from time to time), but it’s different. It wasn’t marriage that changed things as much as it was parenthood. At some point you just have to start acting like a grownup. >Sigh.<