Almost 1:30 in the morning... husband and daughter are fast asleep... this is my time to be alone.
For as long as I can remember, I LOVED the late nights/early mornings I would spend by myself. Be it with my nose in a good book, yarn wrapped around my fingers, or tapping away at my computer. This was the quiet time that I would spend without having to converse... or interact... or think about anyone else but me. I know it sounds selfish, but this is what keeps me from going insane. My career requires me to be constantly surrounded by people, so I fight for time without anyone around.
I know that I should rest (I received this admonition from a friend not too long ago), now that there's a baby in the picture. Having said that however, even a few minutes of "me time" is healthy. The first few days with the baby, we were constantly surrounded by nurses, visitors, more nurses, my mother (who drove me to tears and near insanity during our hospital stay), doctors, etc. Once we got home, it was Rob and me, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The littlest thing would irritate me (he left expressed breast milk out of the fridge... twice... and those few ounces were difficult to get), to the point that he'd get the silent treatment and a dirty look. Or I'd hide in the bathroom and clean just to avoid getting really angry. And you wouldn't like me when I'm angry.
Alone time... when the only voice you hear is your own... is absolutely necessary. It's that time that readies me for when I have to be with people again.