Empty Nesters?

3.5 years ago we were living in a small 2 bed, 1 bath 800 square foot love nest in the heart of downtown Provo  We were happily and anxiously awaiting the pending purchase of our "mansion" on the West side of town (when you're living in 800 sq. feet, 2200 sq. feet feels like a mansion). A good friend from my old job unexpectedly called for the first time in a year asking to crash at our place for a month or so while she got re-established in Provo. She'd been living the past year in Arizona and had no house, job, or transportation lined up. She offered to pay us a fair amount for our trouble and said she didn't mind that we'd have Andrei intruding on her personal space on weekends, since the only place for her to stay was in his room. She promised that she would be staying with us for no more than 4-6 weeks.
We took the bait, setting off a chain of events that ended this weekend.
Beginning with Carrie, we have had a long-term house guest living with us for the past three and a half years. When she left, we moved into our "new" house. We were there less than a month when my MIL came to visit and ended up staying with us for ten weeks. I put up with normal Mother-in-Law/Daughter-in-law drama, but by the time she left I was so very tired of tiptoeing around schedules, finicky palates, and abrasive personal habits. This was also the time period during which I was thrown into the deep end, working full time and being Andrei's full-time "mom" while Jerly filmed a tv show overseas. I was under so much stress at work, exhausted, and essentially I just needed some "me" time.
When MIL left I swore to myself "never again."
Never say never.
Less than 6 weeks later, Luis's sister called us up asking to spend the weekend in our house. She was 5 months pregnant and had just gotten into a wicked-bad fight with her husband and just wanted to "cool down." She moved out last August. It was a 2.5 year-long weekend.
Shortly before Ana moved out, my youngest brother also joined our rag-tag team of misfits, having finished high school and needing a safe place to stay while he figured out a long-term plan. He's been with us since July.
This weekend, brother moved out to begin attending the University of Utah. As I was driving him up to school I realized that I was dropping him off and coming home to an entirely empty house. Nobody. Not even the possibility of anybody, aside from my own husband and child. And then it struck me how odd it must be to actually have *that* seem weird.
In 3.5 years (with the exception of a few minor breaks), I haven't walked around in my underwear in my own house. I haven't had junk food for dinner because I didn't feel like cooking anything. I haven't had a personal conversation with my husband outside of our bedroom or automobile. Heck. I haven't even made love to him without covering up the air vent that connects our room to the guest room with a pile of pillows.
It's exhausting living with other people. As much as I love them all, it's like living under a microscope. Privacy is non-existent. You have to watch everything you say and do because someone is always watching.
So needless to say we won't be advertising a room for rent any time soon.
I'd feel guilty about feeling so giddy about my new-found freedom except that Ana is now thriving with a good paying job and a nice apartment, and Brendan has recently advertised that living in college dorms is the most fun he's ever had in his life. Thank heavens we could be there when they needed help. And doubly so that they don't need our help any more. I wish them all the very best, from the very bottom of my heart.
Now, I think I'm going to eat ice cream out of a carton while wearing nothing but a towel.