Sometimes I wonder what I have become. I still think I have my usual fun outlook on life most of the time, but come across moments where I don’t recognize myself.

That happened recently when I had one of those special opportunities I get a few times each year. My wife and daughter went away for a few days, and I had the house to myself.

I miss them terribly when this happens, but I also enjoy playing “single guy” in the house for 48 hours or so.

They left to visit friends on Monday morning, and the entire work day consisted of me looking at the clock and wondering what kind of fun I would create when I got home.

But when I got there, nothing happened.

Well, not nothing, but nothing of consequence. I exercised, had a nice dinner and then pretty much just chilled out before going to bed at a decent hour. I even resisted one of the siren songs of being home alone and slept without the TV on all night.

I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with me.

I had stayed up a little later than normal the previous night and felt kind of tired. In the past, however, I could push through that. I would find something stupid on television and stay up past my bedtime. This time, I just couldn’t do it. I was too tired.

Even if I can explain my need to get a reasonable amount of sleep, I still have trouble accepting my decision to simply heat up some leftovers for dinner.

Sure, we had some really good pulled pork leftover from a visit to my mother-in-law’s the previous afternoon. And the baked beans we also brought home looked so good.

I would normally take this opportunity to buy a bunch of meet, throw all of it on the grill and stock up the freezer with lots of lunch choices for the next month or so. That didn’t happen this time.

I knew we already had some things in the freezer. I wanted to remain responsible and focus on leftovers first before I went and cooked more food. I also thought if I worked out and then grilled, I might throw off my plan to get to bed early.

Just laying all this out is starting to depress me. I used to revel in my time alone, but now all I have to hang my hat on is how I didn’t make the bed until the absolute last minute and left mail and newspapers spread out across the dining room table for most of the time. I, of course, arranged them in neat piles before my freedom ended.

But none of this new-found responsibility came because I worried I would upset my wife (Ok, the bed thing did). I made these decisions only to make my own life easier.

On the bright side, I did go out and eat wings and enjoyed a few drinks past my bedtime the next night. So I know I still have that spark. I just hope I can do it two nights in a row in the future.