OK, so I've OFFICIALLY lived with Chris for a couple of months now.. And I am quite happy. Let me list a few reasons why. Silly, but I was thinking about this last night.. Strangely enough, while pumping gas. :)
1. I always remember my billing ZIP code now.
This may SOUND like a small thing, but you don’t know what it’s like to have THREE addresses (“home”, PO box, and Chris’s), and never be quite sure what goes where. I’d call my cellphone company and they’d ask me to verify my address and I’d have no idea which address they had because I don’t receive statements. The pharmacist would ask me to verify my address when I’d pick up a Rx and laugh when I’d have to try twice – or more – to get it right. I’d be like, “Give me a clue – is it in Pompano?” Worse, sometimes places would have old, old addresses and then it could get REAL ugly.
And then there was the gas pump.
I used to stand at the gas pump and think, “Now, does this card bill to 33324, 33060, or 33308?” And if you guessed wrong twice, the pump would sometimes not let you try again. You’d have to go to a different pump! Now, I get it on the first time, every time – 33308! Sweet!
2. We was po’ when I was growing up.
We were ALWAYS out of stuff. Toilet paper, milk… Now, mind you, my mom was out at the bar every Friday and Saturday night, spending money, so we shouldn’t have been lacking for the basics. But anyway, yeah, we didn’t have much. And even after my mom got her A.A. when I was, uhh.. I dunno.. 12 or so.. and got a decent job, well then I can’t blame it on the money, because we were still always running out of everything. And I can tell you that a box of Kleenex was a special treat reserved for when someone was sick. Forget that I had allergies all the time, so I had to use toilet paper or napkins or something to wipe my sore, red little nose.
OK, Chris’s house? We have, like, 30 rolls of toilet paper under the bathroom sink at any given moment. There is a box of Kleenex (or two!) in every room, and a kitchen closet stocked full of more. (This is my doing – is someone making up for their childhood?) And the batteries! You need AA, AAA, C, D, even those little flat ones you put in calculators? WE HAVE THEM ALL! It’s really quiet strange. He even has stamps. Usually. I think it probably says a lot about the lack of normal adult responsibility that I am impressed with the possession of stamps in a household, but I absolutely love having something to mail and saying, “Where are the stamps?” and hearing a, “Office desk drawer,” in response. Which reminds me: we’re out. Gotta buy more.
3. We have a houseful of animals!
Yes, I do realize this is pretty insane, and I spend a lot of my evenings & weekends acting as dog-cat referee, but they give a lot of entertainment and love. The best part is that it really isn’t crowded… others may be overwhelmed by the numbers of animals.. but honestly, there’s a lot of room. Except in bed at night, when all the dogs want to sleep with us. I had two of ‘em in bed the other night and ended up sleeping up by the pillows of our king-size bed since they took over my side. (Gee, why didn’t they do that to CHRIS?) Then Oreo reclined onto my head. Lordy.
4. One home, that's it!
No more feeling weird about staying somewhere all the time that wasn't home. Or not ever staying somewhere that was supposed to be home. Or feeling awkward ddropping off a rent check once a month because I never stayed there. Or wondering if Chris wanted me to stay at my house sometimes, even though he assured me he didn't. Where I do belong is where I want to belong, and that's a good feeling. :)
OK, we all know Chris is the best. He's good to me, good with the animals, he makes French toast for breakfast by request, he makes dinner... Good-natured, even-keeled, and immature (but in a good way, of course.. you know, usually). All this great stuff I thought about him when I first met him wasn't just him being on best-behavior. He's really just like that.
And, of course, livin' there, I get to be there with Chris every night. This is pretty much routine until, like, the other night when his bud who lives in the Phillipines was in town and wanted him to go up to Delray to watch the Steelers game. Chris was sleep deprived and the game lasted until late, so he brought his work clothes with him in case he got too tired to drive home. I was like, "But... but... I don't want you to not come home!" He kept saying I could go with, that way I could drive and he'd for-sure make it home. But, first of all, I have lots of school stuff to do. Second, that would involve me going 45 minutes away to watch a FOOTBALL game. FOOTBALL. I love my boy, but it just did not add up for a sane person to do, an in-love sane person or not. But the funny thing is, I really went back and forth on it -- I really considered it. If that's not love... But anyway, he ended up coming home that night anyhow. Lucky me. :)