Home. Alone.

It's been two weeks since Angel got his wings and he flew off to be reunited with his mommy and daddy. I really thought that I would miss his furry presence more than I do. But as it turns out I am really enjoying coming home and not having to immediately turn my attention to his special brand of "pay attention to me, and only me, you live to serve me" thinking.

Every day at work, countless times during the day, I'm called on by my peers to help answer their questions, troubleshoot their issues, and make their work a little bit easier. The trade off is that it tends to make my own work day a little more challenging. So after providing personal attention to everyone but myself during the day, it's nice to come home and not have to worry about anyone, or anything else, and finally be able to take care of myself.

I've noticed that I'm getting more and more aware about how much time I have for myself. Kenny-time. I've lived with more than a dozen roommates in the past 10 years and while it can be nice to have someone around the house — especially to be there when I'm changing a lightbulb just in case I fall off the ladder — I'm willing to take my chances for the relief and relaxation that comes with knowing that my homelife is on my terms.

While I've contemplated getting a pet of my own after Angel took flight, a beagle perhaps, I'm really not sure I'm ready for that, at least not until I'm able to reclaim my own time at work. Or get married. Oh, wait…scratch that last one.