Sweet Unknown Solitude

This may be the ultimate in selfishness, but I'm wondering if a few minutes alone in the bathroom is an unreasonable expectation? Perhaps my sense of what is appropriate and what isn't in a family has somehow deviated during the time my male spousal unit was living across the ocean, but since he's been back I've had ZERO time to myself.

Before I changed jobs back in May, I worked what's called a 9/80 schedule, which means I worked 8 nine hour days, 1 eight hour day, and had 1 day off every two weeks. Those two days per month were my sanity: I used those precious hours alone to well, be alone. I could sing, dance, finish projects, write, read, talk on the phone, get my toenails done, etc. Since May, I've been a geographically single parent working a traditional five-days-per-week schedule with an hour's commute each way. Needless to say, I haven't had a moment to myself since then with the exception of commute time, shower/bathroom time, and (obviously) sleep time. Believe it or not, those moments of solitude were enough to keep me sane.

But trust me when I say that I didn't know the meaning of "up in my grille" until my husband came home. Seems like he's afraid I'm going to up and disappear if I go into another room, because he follows me wherever I go. I'm not exaggerating. I haven't pooped, showered, applied makeup or deodorant, dressed, or changed a friggin' tampon by myself since December 22.

I had a hysterical laughing fit (the alternative was a complete mental breakdown and I just can't afford that right now) the other day when he came in while I was trying to take a dump and all the kids and dogs followed him in. There I am, shooting butt nuggets, and the entire household is discussing various aspects of the situation while two Dobermans try to shove their snouts between my legs. What's not funny about that, y'all?? Seriously!!

I've already run out of hints. I'm pretty close to running out of nice ways to say it. I have no idea what I'll do next. I shed tears of joy this evening when I was miraculously allowed to do the grocery shopping sans entourage.

I think I'll go over my boss' head and beg for my 9/80 schedule back. I mean beg.