This past weekend, I was allowed 24 hours by myself, with absolutely no responsibilities. This started on late-afternoon Saturday when I came back to an empty house while my wife, son, and dog were visiting family a few hours away. I used to think I would be fine being alone. Sure, I preferred having the love and occasional adoration of my family, but I would be just fine on my own.
This weekend I learned that I would spiral out of control within a week.
Now, the big issue, and one that was thrown my way at the last second, was that the dog was not going to be with me. We ran into some travel conflicts, and it turned out that it would make more sense for my wife to drive back with both my son and dog, and I would be all alone. I desperately needed that companionship from the dog, and if I had the dog around, my sanity would stay in tact for at least a couple weeks. But with a totally empty house, it got real lonely, real quick.
Now, on the positive side, I actually had a lot going for me as it was both Final Four and WrestleMania weekend. That is a lot of content to get lazy and consume by myself. And Saturday night went pretty well. I watched both NXT and WrestleMania and checked in on the Final Four games on occasion. I also played a lot of NBA 2K22 where I was taking the expansion Iowa Hawkeyes on an epic playoff run. As a person who lives my life as a 75-year-old man, I didn’t stay up until the end of the Duke-UNC game or WrestleMania, but that at least gave me something to consume the next day.
And I would even say the next day started off pretty well. I was able to go for a drive so I could go for a guilt-free run in an area that I’ve never run before. I took my time because I had nothing to hustle back to. It would have been completely relaxing if I hadn’t had to poop so bad towards the second half of the run. But even then, I had no fatherly duties so I went home, took my poop, enjoyed my shower, and even made myself a delicious cheat-breakfast of french toast croissants.
That’s when things went downhill.
I realized I had nothing to do. Sure, there were a couple hours of WrestleMania to watch, and I did, but I was hoping to do something. I was thinking about doing something outside, but I wasn’t going to walk by myself with no dog, because that would just make me feel like a freak. So I sat in the house, played video games, and watched wrestling. It sounds nice, but I wanted more. Eventually, I did some yard work, just to be productive in some way, but I was so bored…and so lonely. I had nothing to do and no purpose, and I was a real piece of trash for those 24 hours. The break was nice, to a point, but eight hours is about all I need of “me” time before I need some “we” time.
I guess the good news is I love my family, but it was a little concerning that I’ve kind of lost my self-reliance and independence.
Let’s face it. I’m now more of a Dad than a Dude.