I have some weird hang-ups about food and, yes, maybe some of the things I eat aren't socially acceptable. Like, for example, mayo and Pico Pica (or sweet chili sauce) mixed together and slathered on whatever protein or carb I feel like I'm in the mood for at the time. With everyone gone, I could finally eat my heart attack inducing secret sauce on everything in sight and not feel like people are looking at me funny.
Don't judge. Just try it some time.
With my family gone I have been reduced to a life of debauchery (like gambling... but, in my defense I won ten bucks and then lost it back and won four bucks and then lost it back and no one needs to know how much I was in the hole at one point. Let's just say I may not have been able to be distinguished from the non-opposable thumb mammals if I didn't break even) and drunkenness of the likes I haven't seen since my early twenties.
You'd think the Crossword Scratcher people would anticipate winnings based on people who love the English language and help a sister out. Between slots and scratchers I can definitely say that I'll never be a professional gambler.
And, yes, my husband is well aware of the types of things I will eat but I feel waaaaay more comfortable eating a half of an avacado filled to the brim with sweet chili sauce and sprinkled with garlic salt when he's not home to look at me like I'm a weirdo.
It's so fucking good, guys. You don't know what you're missing out on.
So, by now you all realize how pathetic I am without my super tall husband around to grab things for me and tell me my butt looks great and the four tiny humans hanging by my pant legs. But, there is a conclusion here, and no moral to the story, except maybe that you should not let your family vacation without you or you will wither and die. I am a great cook. No, scratch that, I am an AMAZING cook. I have no one to cook for. I am physically incapable of cooking for less than an army at this point. So, when my family is not here I just buy a bag of queso flavored Lays at the gas station for dinner and I have THIS for dessert...
This is it, people. This is what I am. I faked being normal just long enough to bag a husband who loves me to the moon. And, now, it's all over. I'm a shell of a woman.
Thankfully my family will be home within the next twelve hours. I have just enough time to stay up all night watching Tina Fey make fun of everything I am (and aspire to be) and clean up my weekend alone mess so my family won't think less of me upon their return.