The art of being alone 

People & Places

Being a reporter can be described as a very people-oriented field of work. The vast amount of our time is spent talking and listening to people, whether it’s in a public meeting or a one-on-one interview. With few exceptions, most of what we write is preceded by human interaction.  

The work itself is also very much a collaborative effort among coworkers, whether it’s bouncing ideas off of each other, a hot take on a national issue or just what to have for lunch, reporting is people-y work. 

And sometimes, that can be a little overwhelming. I know many jobs and life roles are like this. If one more person asks you for one more thing … well, that might be where I enter the picture depending on the nature of the reaction. 

When friends, family and total strangers are making you a little stabby, you might need a little alone time.  

Earlier this year, I took a trip to see my parents by myself. I usually take the kids but this time, I wanted to do the visit by myself. While my parents were a little salty about not getting to see the grandkids, they understood my need to detach myself from that role for a while.  

It was a different kind of experience, but not truly a trip alone. I still had to interact with my parents and take them into consideration. I was able to have different types of conversations with them and my brother; it was a great trip and I have no regrets, but it still wasn’t just me. 

I recently hit my capacity for people and decided to take a little weekend trip 100 percent alone. Just me, myself and I. No one I needed to take care of, consider or even think about for a couple of days. 

After some consideration and polling friends, I decided to visit Truth or Consequences for a couple of nights. There’s a place that pipes the water from the hot springs straight into large soaking tubs in the room. That meant I wouldn’t have to deal with anyone in a public soaking pools.  

Check in is “touchless” so all I had to do was find my room and walk in, no making small talk with someone at the front desk. The room was perfect — comfy bed, fridge and a deep tub. Plus Direct TV with endless channel selections. I put on HGTV and watched other people create their dream homes.  

When I had to call a local restaurant to order dinner, rather than doing it online, I was mildly disgruntled. The idea of speaking to a human after hours of silence was unwelcome. With nothing but a repeated busy signal, I decided to be a grown up and walk the whole block over and make an order in person. Turns out, the place closed more than a year ago, hence the busy signal.  

I meandered down the deserted, dusty street and found a local burger place about to close. I ordered what I wanted, didn’t have to think about getting something for someone else or sharing what I got. I could watch whatever I wanted to as I ate. Maybe soak in the tub again. It was very much all about me. 

It was also a little boring. By Saturday afternoon, I kind of felt like I’d gotten the “relaxing” out of the way and I should find something to do. Kind of. The blazing heat convinced me a mid-day nap was a better choice, followed by more HGTV. Maybe boring wasn’t so bad.