Ever since Secret Single Behavior became a thing, thanks to the gang from Sex and the City, ladies who live alone have not been shy about sharing what goes on behind closed doors.
“I lie in the bath for hours, eating chocolate and drinking beer.”
“I wrap myself in a hideous orange snuggy and stand in the kitchen eating Gherkins from a jar.”
“I vacuum in high heels, dancing around the house to Spice Girls hits.”
“I stole my neighbour’s chihuahua and used it’s liver in a Satanic ritual in lieu of dragon testicles. I don’t live near a pet store.”
If these “confessions” sound familiar, it’s because they are a grab bag of all the “real life single girl stories” I’ve picked up from magazines and blogs over the years.
(Well, maybe not that last one. Maybe.)
But can you spy the fairy flossed thread of familiarity that twines them all together?
It’s that they’re all safe, slightly decadent, quirky vignettes of the wildly fun times women who live alone must experience on a daily basis. It’s all endless glasses of wine, late night dance parties and a bounty of chocolate treats.
It’s Pretty Woman meets Carrie Bradshaw, with just a touch of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? thrown in for good measure.
At least, that’s what it looks like to the untrained eyes of the civilians who lurk on the sidelines. Those who live in crowded homes with pets and children toppling onto their heads at all moments of the day as they try to co-exist in communal homes.
Top Comments
I happily live alone and this is the least of my worries.
If I die from choking or from any other reason where I am here by myself and there is no one to help me, then so be it.
I really couldn't give a shit.
Someone will eventually find me when they smell the stink.
That is reality.
You can rescue yourself from choking. Slamming yourself into a wall or the top of a chair can force the diaphragm to expel the item blocking the airways.