When did my life become so hectic? I know that I missed posting a story last week, but I blame the fact that I have, as of late, become a gypsy--nomadic really. Why you ask? Well, you know how it goes. Once you meet someone and exchange letter jackets and or/pins, or for the Generation Y-ers out there, make it Facebook official and change your relationship status, one of the people in the relationship inevitably starts living out of a bag because they are always at the other person's house. This is my life now.
As some of you may know, I had to move from my old apartment into a new one because of the damn bed bug problem that is on the rise here in Chicago. After living with a girlfriend of mine for about a month, on September 1 I finally moved into my fabulous new apartment. Well, from what I remember, it's fabulous. Since I moved in, I have probably spent a total of 2 weeks there because I have been spending a lot of time at the new beau's place. Before you say it, I'm going to answer your question... he doesn't have a roommate and I do, so it's sometimes nicer to be at his place so that we have more privacy. I'm not complaining. I love his place and the location is perfect, but there is something sad about having to fit my life into a duffel bag. And it's certainly not easy! Every time I want to stay there, I have to run home back up North and let the dog out, pack a bag, then lug said bag on the El downtown to his place and then to work with me the next morning. In the last three weeks alone, I have left my toothbrush, my flat iron, a shoe (just one of course, because if I had left both of them, there wouldn't be one around to taunt me), my mascara and my favorite pair of gold stud earrings. The mascara, shoe, toothbrush and earrings I was able to live without for a few days, but on the fourth day of living without my flat iron (yesterday) and subsequently being forced to wear my hair in a pony tail too many times in one week to be socially acceptable, I may or may not have had a slight silent freak out and canceled plans Sunday night to stay at his place.
We have been seeing each other for about four months now (loosely), so I ask you; In a relatively new relationship, when is it too early to leave some of your things behind?
Please know that I'm not saying that by month four I should have a dresser drawer, or be allowed to put my feminine products in his medicine cabinet a la How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days, but I certainly would hope that I could start leaving things behind, like a toothbrush or something. In a perfect world, maybe even a little bag of stuff that included pajamas, an extra flat iron and girlie shower products (God I miss those when I don't have them) tucked away in the far back corner of his closet. I will even put them in a nondescript black duffel bag as to not draw attention to it from his friends. But how do I do that? Do I just start "accidentally" leaving stuff behind? Do I start dropping hints about leaving stuff behind to feel out the situation? Or, gasp! Do I actually talk to him about it? Eesh. It all seems so daunting. Am I that out of practice of having a functional relationship that something this trivial has consumed my thoughts? Yes. Yes, apparently I am.
Shit almost hit the fan this morning when I realized that I hadn't packed the correct bra to wear under my shirt for work and was going to have to make a run to Nordstrom to buy one, so that I didn't look like my "work" was that of a prostitute. That was the icing on the cake, and I started to open my mouth to unleash about how unfair it was that I was always at his place, and that I was tired of lugging my crap back and forth, when I noticed that he had silently moved my toothbrush from the side of the sink, and placed it in the toothbrush holder next to his. Good man. With that sweet gesture, I decided to bite my tongue and see if the situation continues to remedy itself. Until then, I guess I will just have to get used to never wearing matching socks.
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