I’ve always suspected it. I blame my childhood for it (growing up in a big family with 4 brothers).
...I would love to live in a collective. (Darling, my husband, you know this already and agree with me)
But imagine the following
- there’s always someone you can talk to (or be quiet with) when you get home from a long day. Someone will always be in the mood for a chat (or be quiet)
- There’s always someone to cook food with, or eat dessert with, or late night snack with, or have wine with (ok I’m getting carried away now, I know)
- There’s always someone that can watch your baby when you have to run out and get something in the store, or go to the gym (that would be amazing!)
- There’s always someone you can borrow clothes from. Unless they’re not the same size as you, which often is the case for me now being pregnant. But at least you can influence their choice of warderobe and tell them to get really stretchy clothes then so that they can fit you too.
- There’s always someone that cares about it being tidy so you will care about it too just enough to do the dishes that late evening. Or just arrange a cleaner once a week (if you hate cleaning like I do)