Why Living Alone is the Most Dangerous of Activites

eastyncazin@outlook.com | No dick pics.

Hello! I’ve missed you all. So much. I want to say life happened, but what really happened was video games. To use a modern turn of phrase: Sorry not sorry.

Today I am here to discuss with you the dangers of living alone. I’m not talking about serial killers or anything. I’m talking about things that you just plain don’t think about until you’re by yourself for prolonged periods of time. Things that are totally feasible and legitimate hazards of day to day life of living by yourself.

The Kitchen: 

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  • If you live alone, who is to tell you that you can’t eat a whole cake for dinner? Nobody. You can emotionally eat your life away with nobody to shame you into not doing so.
  • Taking a cue from my spirit animal, Liz Lemon, choking. My diet now primarily consists of things that will not kill me if I am trying to eat it. I’ve had to give up my live squid obsession, and substituted it for juice and soups because those won’t get lodged in my esophagus.
  • That growing pile of dirty dishes is a breeding ground for all kinds of nasty shit, but you live alone. Nobody is going to judge you if you let that spaghetti bowl sit for a few days..weeks.

The Living Room:

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  • Chances are you have something that allows you to binge watch TV shows for hours upon hours on end. You will one day melt into a puddle of what was once a human and only be able to regurgitate pop culture references as your Hulu automatically starts season 10 of The Only Way is Essex.
  • Furniture Corners. My worst enemy. Need I say more?

The Bedroom:

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  • Getting out of bed is hard 9 times out of 10. Without your mother to come in and ask you about wasted daylight, you might as well just stay in there for, I don’t know, all weekend?
  • Why make the bed? Let’s be honest, you’re not getting laid as much as you say you are. Hell, you’re not getting laid at all. You’ll just continue to alligator roll your sheets and blanket into a strangulation device as you quietly slumber, but it adds a little much needed excitement to your bedtime routine, right?
  • Sweatpants are your best friend. You’re not even ashamed.

The Bathroom:

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  • Most of my fears involving the bathroom stem around slipping and falling in the shower. There’s that terrible moment of panic when you feel your foot go right out from underneath you, you helplessly grab onto the shower curtain and you see your life flash before your eyes. The rest of your shower is then spent considering getting a gym membership, because if you’re going to die naked, might as well look fabulous while doing it.
  • You get a little overly confident about your singing abilities. You think it won’t start to go to your head, but it does. Here’s a hint: just don’t let it fall into your public sphere of life. Save yourself that mortification.
  • Why do you need to close the door? You don’t! You live alone. Its just sometimes you forget when you have company over… or when you are at somebody else’s home.

I mean, other than that, living alone is great. I definitely don’t talk to myself out loud at all.

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But really. It’s nice.

 

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