Almost exactly 10 years ago. My wife and her best friend went away for a week and took the kids with them. I had a bunch of holiday saved up so I took the week off work and had the house to myself. I spent the first two days tidying, cleaning, and doing chores - so I wouldn’t have to end the week doing that and so when my wife got home she’d be happy because that means a lot to me.

But that still left five days of utterly selfish me-time.

I arranged to see precisely no-one (a combination of depression and a yearning for peace and quiet). I moved my XBox into the living room with the big TV. I slept in, ordered takeaways, played video games, watched films with more fights and car chases and explosions than my wife enjoys, went for the occasional pointless, destinationless drive (playing Metallica and Iron Maiden and Pink Floyd too loud), and the occasional walk just to shake off the cobwebs (and maybe visit an old-man pub where there are no jukeboxes or fruit machines or people who will talk at you). I even spent most of the last day just reading a book. I never get that much peace and quiet.

What a week.

I’d definitely pay for another like it.