It's Saturday night and I'm on the couch in my incredibly sexy pac man hoody and jeans special. To make the extent of my nana evening even clearer, it's 10.15 and I've already brushed my teeth. Yeah, pretty rock n roll. You see nowadays I really struggle to go out two nights in a row. From the moment I woke up dry mouthed and weary this morning (skipping dinner for office drinks on a Friday will do that to you) I haven't been able to stop thinking about the immense joy that a crap TV binge followed by a pizza induced coma would bring. Bliss.
Speaking of bliss, I have some news of the domestic bliss variety. Or at least I hope it will be bliss. Tom and I are moving into our own place. I'm calling it 'playing house' for a couple of reasons. The first being that we are both new to the concept and the second because our new apartment is about the size of a treehut. Oh wow, I just got excited about the prospect of being able to make huts in the lounge. FUN. That's why people move in together right? So no one else gets to see how lame you are?
Lucky none of my flatmates are home this evening (duh, because it's Saturday) to witness my sloth like movements. Also lucky for them that soon they won't have to put up with my incredibly loud movements after a big night. I've been told that for a rather small person I have a rare talent for sounding much like a herd of elephants upon entering the flat.
That's the beauty of shacking up isn't it? You find a person who is so blinded by love that they accept all your flaws and agree to put up with them on a daily basis. Tom is a brave man. I must admit I'm a little bit nervous but mainly just excited.
Flatting can be great but after almost eight years I feel like the time is right to move on. Our current flatmates are awesome but you never know who you could be living with in a year's time. I feel like I've had my fair share of duds. Once a guy gave me the silent treatment for a week for making toast loudly in the wee smalls of Sunday morning. I know, how do I live with myself? Then there was the girl who changed boyfriends as often as her undies. One fateful night a jilted lover broke into her room and proceeded to start a brawl with the newest flavour of the week. The cops were called and knew her by name. That was an eye opener.
I'm also really excited because Tom, a notorious hoarder, has agreed to cull some of his posessions in aid of the move. This is BIG for him. I'm very touched by his commitment to the cause and it's a sacrifice that shows me he is really into the idea of living with me and just me (insert “Awww” here).
So now we can look forward to packing up our lives and playing tetris with our furniture all while trying not to kill each other. I've been told by others who are doing it already that 'I won't know myself' once we're settled and that I won't look back. I just hope that Tom's ok with knowing myself, inside and out because let's face it, we're all a little bit annoying....especially in close proximity.
I guess life is about finding that person who will put up with your annoying bits and if you're lucky, they might even make huts in the lounge with you.
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