No one else is there to take care of the pots and pans you left in the sink to soak. :mad:
Who the frack left the dushes in the sink again? Me again!
That itch you can’t quite reach and the door-frame doesn’t quite cure.
Oh, it’s not so bad.
If you never let anyone into your heart, you never have to worry about getting hurt.
I guess that’s a fair trade for never feeling someone’s arms snake around you in the night and pull you close, the soft touch of their nose against your skin because they can’t get enough of how you smell. Who wants to have their sleep disturbed like that? And you don’t have to bother with the annoyance of someone kissing you till your chin develops a wear spot from his beard that actually bleeds. I mean, ouch! No more stress with having to laugh at private jokes. And it’s easier to weed the garden your own way, without someone’s pesky help.
Can’t say I miss holding hands in a crowd or while laying together in a hammock, stargazing and teaching each other the secrets of the skies, or pushing a freshly roasted sticky marshmallow into someone’s mouth and licking off the mess while laughing. No exchanging meaningful glances at dinner parties. Forget those irritating tickle fights. I don’t really care if I have someone around to steady the ladder while I pressure-wash the canopy on the workshop or to tell me what the heck one of my tools is used for, or about the look in his eyes when he understands there is no one else on earth I love like I love him. I don’t have to put up with raucous family holidays filled with kids and laughter. I don’t have to put up a holiday tree if I don’t want to, or kibitz about who has authority over the TV remote control, or care if he liked the meal I prepared. If I never give another foot or back massage again, it will be too soon. I don’t have to spend time thinking about what he would want for a perfect gift to celebrate his special day.
There is no obligation conferred on me to worry in the least about the joy, well being or quality of life for another person, or to risk one molecule of my heart.
I’m telling you, being single is great. Don’t think I’d change a thing.
Happy Holidays to you too Sunshine!
This is why single people have pets.
It was the cat. The cat didn’t refill the ice cube tray.
Too much king-size bed to spread out on; NOT! 
Arrrggg… here is a true story that just happened in my apt building earlier this year.
There are many tenants in the “blue rinse” crowd living here. Some live alone.
There was a man who rarely ventured out of his apt that lived directly below me by 2 floors.
Since he rarely left, and had basically no friends or building contacts, he was not ‘missed’ for an unknown period of time… he had died in his apt.
About that same time, some friends in the building kept asking me if I got wind of a terrible stench that would blow through in the evenings. I did not.
And said it must be from the nearby pond, or sewers.
This went on for weeks.
Some family of his became concerned after a period of time and came calling.
Oh dear…
The superintendents of this building told me they couldn’t get the ‘smell’ out of his apt even after removing the carpets, and repainting. It remained empty for several months with the windows and balcony door open to air it out.
It’s now occupied. I don’t know if the current tenants know of the history…
Wonder if it’s haunted…
Saddddddddddddddddd.
Yeesh. That’s sad.
I’m a painting contractor and at one point had several apartment complexes as clients. I was on the job one day, in the leasing office, when the maintenance guy rushed in, looking sick and pale. He’d gone into an occupied apartment after complaints of a bad odor, and found the tenant dead and decomposing (it was August and the AC wasn’t on.)
Turned out a heart attack while using cocaine and the guy had been in there for…I can’t remember. Enough time to become decomposed and attract hordes of flies, anyway. 
Luckily I didn’t have to paint that one. Their insurance company hired a service that did a complete tear-out and renovating of the apartment
what dishes? I don’t see them. you can’t mean the ones deliberately soaking overnight.
They take care of themselves. Honestly you let the water out and they’re clean. fill it up again with hot water and lightly wipe them and they’re done. It’s as fast as loading the dishwasher and they’re cleaner.
I end up doing my dishes about once a week, though I would prefer to wash them as soon as I’m done with them. My problem is that, in my ancient apartment building, the individual apartments don’t have their own water heaters. Instead, there is a shared water heater (either one great big one, or a bank of smaller ones — I haven’t actually seen what’s there) that services all 16 units. And it would seem that my unit is the one farthest from the heater. It takes a ridiculous length of time to get hot water running in my kitchen sink. So I just leave them to soak in cold water until my day off (Monday), and then go downstairs and wash them in hot water immediately after I shower.
The upside of this is that I don’t have a water heater running up my electric bill. This arrangement led to some confusion when I first moved in, though. When I first used the kitchen sink and still didn’t have any hot water after about five minutes of running the faucet, I assumed my water heater had been turned off while the apartment was vacant. I hunted all over the place trying to find the damned thing.
It is sad, isn’t it? The OP asked about the downside of being single, and I shared it. I was very happily married before my husband died suddenly. I manage fine on my own, have lived alone for 7 years in the country and have never felt desperate about it. I can take care of myself. But I do miss those things. I’m sorry if it harshed your mellow.
I’ve recently started to joke that I am starting understand the concept of a “marriage of convenience”
It began the day that I had totally dismantled my toilet only to realize that I bought the wrong size flapper. I was covered in the black slime that comes off of the plastic washers and wearing nothing that I would wear outside of my door, much less into the illustrious Home Depot.
It was soon followed by the snow storm that dumped 10 inches of snow, the day after I’d had an epidural for back pain and had to shovel the snow despite doctor’s advice to take it easy and no lifting for a week.
But then, without fail, within weeks of making a statement like “I think I could embrace the idea of not marrying for love alone” I will meet a guy who checks a lot of boxes on the “Marriage Material” list and I will realize that he annoys the crap out of me and I am not attracted to him. Then I realize that I can’t even date people I don’t REALLY like so there is no way I could marry one.
The only downside to living alone is I have to take out the garbage beery week, then bring in the cans. Other than that, there is no downside to living alone.
Not specifically — I said, “living alone”.
My sympathy for your loss.
Just so I make myself clear, I wasn’t being sarcastic at all. Sorry to hear.
That old back scratcher has me in its spell,
That old back scratcher like the Chinese sell.
Your plastic fingers up and down my spine,
That same old itchcraft when your touch meets mine.
You tame that tingle when I’m all alone,
For I am single, so to itch his own.[indent]-- Alan Sherman[/indent]
Same story . . . Old person croaks in apartment all alone, nobody notices until the rent is overdue and the manager comes looking.
Same thing happened in an apartment building where I once lived (although not while I lived there, actually). Only, it was the manager who croaked.
I understand putting fresh coffee grounds in a frying pan and putting that on a stove burner and turning the burner up will help with the odor of a corpse. Or at least while the detectives and MEs are dealing with it.