I've had quite a lot on my mind lately. The thoughts are all just swirling around in here.
It hasn't been an easy transition, moving in with D. I spend a lot of time missing my old apartment. I think what I notice most is that even when he leaves me alone, I'm not alone. I don't really feel free to eat peanut butter out of the jar at 2 am using only my fingers as utensils. I suppose that might be a good thing though. It has gotten better; I miss him when he goes to work. The time just seems to fly by though, it's like I haven't got enough time to absorb the alone time. I love waking up and he's next to me. It would be so much easier if he would jump on board with keeping things clean. I never realized what an incredible neat freak I am. My second college roommate used to joke that I was Monica and Rachel from friends all in one person. I had the feeling she was calling me a ditz with an intense cleaning obsession. Doesn't worry me.
I love cleaning. I love the feeling that everything is clean and organized. That you could pick any item I own and I'd know where it was. I love the absence of dust and the presence of sheen. I adore the way the bathroom smells after bleach has disinfected it. I enjoy knowing that I can touch my things and I won't get sick. I love the perfect moment after everything's clean, and I'm sweaty and dirty, and I step in the shower and I become a part of it all. Yeah, I'm that into clean. It's driving me nuts right now that my desk has a pile of papers and books on it. Crazy, crazy.
D doesn't share that love. I don't expect any person in their right mind to. I just wish I didn't have to constantly be looking at the fish tank stuff, on my dresser, on the kitchen counter. I wish he'd offer to pitch in once in a while. Especially since I need a quiet, clean environment to sleep and study in. He doesn't get it, and he doesn't want to. That's the hardest. Most of the time I feel like he just dismisses all my specific quirks as neuroses. Sometimes that's good. It's hard being dismissed all the time. The stuff that's important to me just gets lost. He thinks it's "cute"... What does that even mean?
I'm exhausted right now; he woke me up this morning at 7 AM... I know he didn't mean to, he was just careless, again. I need to go to school.
It hasn't been an easy transition, moving in with D. I spend a lot of time missing my old apartment. I think what I notice most is that even when he leaves me alone, I'm not alone. I don't really feel free to eat peanut butter out of the jar at 2 am using only my fingers as utensils. I suppose that might be a good thing though. It has gotten better; I miss him when he goes to work. The time just seems to fly by though, it's like I haven't got enough time to absorb the alone time. I love waking up and he's next to me. It would be so much easier if he would jump on board with keeping things clean. I never realized what an incredible neat freak I am. My second college roommate used to joke that I was Monica and Rachel from friends all in one person. I had the feeling she was calling me a ditz with an intense cleaning obsession. Doesn't worry me.
I love cleaning. I love the feeling that everything is clean and organized. That you could pick any item I own and I'd know where it was. I love the absence of dust and the presence of sheen. I adore the way the bathroom smells after bleach has disinfected it. I enjoy knowing that I can touch my things and I won't get sick. I love the perfect moment after everything's clean, and I'm sweaty and dirty, and I step in the shower and I become a part of it all. Yeah, I'm that into clean. It's driving me nuts right now that my desk has a pile of papers and books on it. Crazy, crazy.
D doesn't share that love. I don't expect any person in their right mind to. I just wish I didn't have to constantly be looking at the fish tank stuff, on my dresser, on the kitchen counter. I wish he'd offer to pitch in once in a while. Especially since I need a quiet, clean environment to sleep and study in. He doesn't get it, and he doesn't want to. That's the hardest. Most of the time I feel like he just dismisses all my specific quirks as neuroses. Sometimes that's good. It's hard being dismissed all the time. The stuff that's important to me just gets lost. He thinks it's "cute"... What does that even mean?
I'm exhausted right now; he woke me up this morning at 7 AM... I know he didn't mean to, he was just careless, again. I need to go to school.
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