Summary
I USED to be great at spending time on my own. I always loved pottering around second-handies and buying dog-eared Agatha Christies that I already own - a nasty habit acquired from Mrs Ramaswamy. I loved cooking for one, shopping for one, cleaning for one. I was brilliant at turning up at parties with just a bottle of wine on my arm (though less good at leaving). I actually liked my own company. Weird.
Now I'm a co-dependent's fantasy, officially crap at life for one. This horrific realisation dawned on me last weekend. My partner, C, was away for the afternoon. Yes, for four whole hours on a Sunday. I was at my wits' end, pacing the bedroom, wringing my hands, all that out-damned-spot stuff. The weather was beautiful, sun on cobbles, Leith Links a pastoral dream. But I didn't know what to do with myself.See the full content of this document
Extract
Chitra Ramaswamy
I decided to go for brunch, booked a table for one, then cancelle...
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