…realizing I have problems.
I am one of those people that REALLY enjoy living alone. I don’t have to share the bed. I can keep the thermostat wherever I want it. I know where everything is because I put it there. I am free to do whatever I want there, in whatever degree of naked I desire.
In short, I like my house in order as I see fit. But this could pose a serious problem for my future romantic life.
I didn’t realize this until a couple days ago, when my mom came to stay with me.
My mom has been at my place, for reasons I won’t get into, for a few days. Now the 1st thing you should understand about this is that my mama and I SHOULD NOT LIVE TOGETHER. We keep 2 different kinds of homes; we are both clean, probably to anal levels, but where she likes lights and music and TVs on all at the same time, my home is usually significantly quieter. She isn’t big on silence; I crave it at the end of the day. She likes to yell across the house; I can’t think of anything more irritating. I like everything uncluttered, clear, put in a particular place in a particular way; she thinks I am crazy. It all balances out.
There is nothing WRONG with either of us. We are simply two different people who respond in different ways to differences in our personal space.
But more than likely, because my mom has lived with people before and I haven’t, she’s got a MUCH better handle on sharing her space than I do.
It started last night in my bathroom.
I walked in to do my usual evening routine before bed, looked at my counter and noticed immediately something was out of place. After a second I realized my little toothbrush/retainer case/jar of baking soda combo was different. Not a big deal. Then I looked at the entire counter as a whole; the clutter across the top of it, the ill placed boxes and bottles, the errant strands of hair dotting the surface, the products that had been moved or turned. I recognized that this was just a part of having to share space with someone, so I righted things as best I could so that I could still find them, and tried to incorporate her things as best I could in a way that wouldn’t make me crazed.
Ten minutes later I was FINALLY washing my face.
Afterwards, walking through the apartment, I could take note of all the things out of place; the power cord left in the corner beside the bed, the clutter on my desk, the suitcase left standing in the middle of the floor. Hell, not much earlier I had ACTUALLY turned to my mother who was coming out of the kitchen and said, “That light wasn’t on in the kitchen when you went in there.”
What adult says this aloud to another adult? OMG!!! I am the parent! This can’t be life.
I immediately started to think about what this would mean for my dating life. How on earth could I ever cohabitate with someone? Would I be one of those nagging live in girlfriends who took note of every pile of clothes with resentment? Or who was constantly arranging and rearranging and picking up behind someone? Would all my little quirks and things make me impossible to live with? Let’s not even discuss my anxiety at the fact that I can’t really sleep with other people. OF COURSE I’d be a ridiculous and anal live in; I’d be sleep deprived and irritated ALL. THE. TIME.
I am sure there are some underlying issues that give life to my need for tidiness and order and such. But I don’t care anything about that right now. I just want to NOT be so absurd. Immediately. lol
Lordy. I need to get it together.