i'm still in bed. mr. monkey's gone to work and i can hear activity downstairs: smallest nephew periodically yelling incoherent words, loud crashing noises from the kitchen. i don't want to investigate. i woke up with a headache and a sadness. both will pass, i'm sure, but i'm giving myself the luxury of a few more minutes by myself.
i could easily give up this damn big house. i could easily give up our stuff... well, some of it anyway. but you'd have to pry my solitude from my cold dead hands. and if that isn't a most solid reason not to have kids i don't know what is. when you have children, unless you're a total asshole or extremely talented at time management and/or time travel, you are essentially giving up your solitude for a good number of years. couldn't do that. would go mad. kill people, that sort of thing.
so i'll take a few more minutes, ignore the crashing and yelling (it sounds benign), and enjoy my last few minutes of being alone.