A woman in need.

It's funny the things I miss as a single person. I'm mostly over missing any romantic or profound aspects of my former relationship, but it's the little things that can still get to me.

Like socks.

Having worn sandals all summer I'm making the transition to boots and I have no socks. I have some socks, but not enough to get me through a laundry cycle. I stood there this morning, wondering whether it's ever acceptable to recycle socks from the laundry pile, and at what point is it not acceptable, and by not acceptable I mean disease-carrying.

I was also wondering where in the hell my socks have gone. I used to be a woman with infinite sock choices, and now I'm barefoot. Taking into consideration the average rate of sock sacrifice to the dryer gods per year, I'm coming up alarmingly short.

And then it dawned on me. My sock deficiencies used to be taken care of by way of my boyfriend's sock drawer. I have large feet, and I was never picky. If I needed socks, his were there. Sports socks, black socks, argyle socks and a pair I particularly liked with pin-striping. All mine for the taking.

Socks are one of those things I've never had to go out and pay for directly - much like property taxes or sex (although I may be paying for both within the next couple of years.) Without somebody elses sock drawer - I'm noticing the shortfall.

Another shortage I'm noticing is spending money. Every day, I stole money from my boyfriend. There, I said it and it feels good. Every night he would dump a large amount of change on the dresser and every morning I'd swipe a toonie, a loonie...two toonies. Never more. (Not so much out of any morality issues, but more to avoid being caught.)

I would use this money to buy my morning tea, muffin, or bus fare, and I liked it. I never asked him if I could take it, and never asked if I could borrow it. Money was always a hot-button issue, mostly because he made more of it and felt this economic advantage gave him an advantage in the relationship.

Because he made more money, he got to decide where we lived and how we lived. He got to be the "manager of the relationship." If I made equal or better money I could have more say in how we lived our lives, but until then his agenda was priority.

I'm not making this up, these are the arguments we would have. Because he made more money, he would pursue his career and educational interests and I would pursue mine at a time that was more optimal. Like when he retired.

He managed the relationship, and I paid for half of the mortgage and utilities, and used my own money when I needed anything. At some point, this was decided to be a sign of good faith that the remainder of our relationship was equal. Obviously my salary and job title negotiations sucked.

And so I felt a silly amount of criminal glee every morning as I sat down to eat my ill-gotten muffin, or drink the tea I didn't earn or ride the bus on somebody else's loonie. If I was putting off getting my masters or living where I wanted until he retired, I had really better enjoy my morning muffin.

So maybe I don't actually miss stealing his spare change at all. Maybe I'm much happier knowing the loonie I scramble for every morning at the bottom of my purse to pay for my extra-large double double tea is my own loonie, and the Tim Hortons I stop at is in the city I want to live in, on the way to the job I want to be doing. And I don't have to wait for anybody.

The sock situation, remains a problem though.