10 good things about living on my own*

1. I don't have to share the walk-in closet with anyone. And since I don't have that many clothes, I don't have to switch out my summer and winter clothes, they all live in there quite happily with plenty of room.

2. I get to spend the Canadian Tire money on whatever I want -- toaster ovens, skates, Corningware -- not stupid auto parts.

3. I can eat Kraft Dinner with the kids if I feel like it instead of feeling obligated to cook a full meal.

4. I can listen to the play-by-play while watching the hockey game on Saturday night instead of having the sound turned off and listening to Grand Funk Railroad. (I hate Grand Funk Railroad.)

5. If I get an invitation to go somewhere, I don't have to run it by anyone. I just have to think to myself, "Self, do we want to go? Can we afford to go?" and if the answer's yes to both, we go...I mean *I* go. Or me plus the girls.

6. I painted my living room burnt orange. I like orange. I'm going to paint my bedroom pink. Girly, girly pink. I'm going to match the colour of a Victoria's Secret bra that I bought. (That ought to be a fun trip to the paint store.)

7. I invite my friends over whenever I feel like it. In fact I'm having some girlfriends over tonight -- food, liquor, Grey's Anatomy Season 2 on DVD, everyone's sleeping over, kind of like a grown-up slumber party.

8. I get to pick all the movies at the video store. And what CDs to play in the car. And what shows to watch on TV.

9. I can cook with garlic again. And wine. And tomatoes. I get to please myself and not the pickiest adult eater in the Western Hemisphere.

10. If the girls feel like making a fort under the dining room table, and eating peanut butter and crackers in there and colouring all day Saturday, I can do it with them instead of catching up on the laundry and cleaning the bathroom. And the dishes can pile up if we want to go tobogganing, and it doesn't bother anyone.

*Well of course my daughters live with me, what I really meant was 10 good things about not having a man in the house. Or, more specifically, not living with my ex.