Moments Alone

How often do you have them? And what do you think about when you do?

My schedule right now is such that my only significant alone time is when I'm in the car. Sure, I have the time in the shower and the time right before I fall asleep at night. And sometimes I have the hours when the children I nanny are napping, but I'm never really alone then - I always have one ear listening to a little sleeper's breathing.
I live my life this way because I like it this way; I've never particularly liked being alone.  But at the same time, there is an importance to moments alone. It's when you talk to yourself most, when your face assumes it's most natural expression, it's when you scratch what itches and drop your posture.
The fact that my alone time is mostly en route has linked some funny things for me. Music has become endlessly important and a single song can switch my entire mood, because I find myself most open when I'm driving and the radio's playing. It also means that certain parts of my drive take on something more: a stop light is a moment to breathe deeply or shut my eyes, a stretch of highway is clear head-ed-ness and simple acceleration.
And sometimes it boils down to just this: Tessie will come up here in a month and take the Bug away from me. I know it's just an object, but I'll be sad to see her go. She's been my only companion for all my alone moments recently.