Home Alone... again

I don't know if I've told you much about my husband. He's quite a unique character - in a positive and a negative way. He's fiercely independent. No one ever thought he'd get married. He's a bit of 'the glass is half empty' type of man. He can be unintentionally selfish sometimes. And there is one rule for him and another for everyone else. Those are the negatives by the way! On the positive side, he loves our daughter so tenderly it brings me to tears; his intentions are always to support and give to his family; he is passionate about the things he loves and he is incredibly loyal.
Anyway, the point is he's not here. He's in deepest darkest Wales at the moment. Working. He was in Spain for 8 days a fortnight ago on a jolly too. He loves motorbikes you see. He loves them more than me - I'm sure it was written on our marriage certificate somewhere. As he says whenever we argue about anything - 'bikes were in my life a long time before you were!'. Can you believe it?! I don't mind actually. I'm glad he is passionate about something. It gets him out of the house, he has a social life attached to it, and it motivates him.
So he had 8 days in sunny Spain while I shivered with a cold in miserable Devon, and now he's away in Wales working with his Dad. Well it's not quite Alicante, but it's still being away from home. I ought to be complaining but I'm not! I actually enjoy it when he goes away:

I can work without feeling guilty that I'm ignoring him.
I can eat junk and not worry that he's watching me and thinking I'm going to get fat(ter).
I am in charge of the TV remote! Hoorah!!!
My daughter's routine is stuck to without fail and she is always in bed by 7pm so I can enjoy a wind down glass of wine.
I don't worry that my possessions are scattered EVERYWHERE.
I can sprawl diagonally across our bed.

Brilliant!! It's just a pity that he's only away until Thursday.