The year after college is this strange time where you’re an adult, starting to earn real money and paying very real bills, but you also have no idea what the hell you are doing all while trying to build a life and family.
Or so I hear from my live-in boyfriend, Brendan. I am still a senior, but just knowing this is the path I have to go down gives me a mild headache.
Along with this strange time in our lives, we are learning how to live together. Apparently, I am a very particular individual. Everything has a place in our home. So, when a soaking wet towel finds its way to the foot of our bed every morning, I have a big issue with that.
But after a brief discussion about it, the towels rarely get left on the bed anymore. However, they’re not in the laundry basket or hung up on the towel hook specifically for wet towels. No, no. They find their way to the couch, chairs, or the corner of the bedroom.
I mean, come on. The hook is right there, pal!
That goes for clothes too. The hamper is right next to you when you change. It’s more work for you to throw them all over the bedroom.
I don’t mean to come off as nagging or ungrateful. After all, I have my own flaws. For instance, when we first talked about getting a kitten, I was all for it, they’re adorable! But have you ever cleaned a litter box?
Me either, they’re disgusting.
It’s no wonder why Brendan burns through so many towels.
As a proud dog person, I’ve never cared for a cat. Let alone a kitten. They’re so small but somehow have more go-go juice than the energizer bunny. Just the other morning, we were lying in bed as Humphrey, our kitty, was running around. Suddenly, an apartment shaking crash comes from the living room and .4 seconds later, Humphrey is hiding under the bed, cowering. After springing out of bed and rushing down the hallway, I see a devastating scene.
The beautiful full-length mirror that we had thrifted a few months ago lay in thousands of pieces on the living room floor. It had fallen, hitting the tv stand on the way down. Shameless tears ran down my cheeks when I went to see if Humphrey was okay as Brendan began to pick up the broken fragments. (Don’t worry Humphrey is just fine!)
If any piece of furniture was going to be broken, I’m sad that it wasn’t Brendan’s recliner. Did you know that when you move in with someone, they also get a say in decorating? Pretty rude if you ask me. Especially if their main contribution is a moldy mushroom colored La-Z-Boy.
Do I sit in it more than Brendan? Yes. But only so I don’t have to look at the monstrosity for too long.
As I am sitting here writing this, Brendan would like to say what he contributes to the house.
“I do the dishes,” he said. “I do the dishes well.”
Another huge plus about Brendan is his wardrobe. My t-shirt selection has doubled in size since we moved in together. They all have been warn in so they’re nice and cozy.
In all seriousness, I love the life we’re building together. We are learning who we are and how we work together. It might be stressful, and silly, and challenging. But we are really seeing what the real world is like, and we don’t have to do it alone.
We could do it without the chair though.