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10:34 a.m. - 2013-05-09
almost there...
Just one week till I'm done with classes!!! OK, so I have two final exams and a test to study for, but so what? I also have this weekend off, for the first time in a month.

So what? In a week -- as soon as I'm done with exams -- we're moving in with A.

My plan is to officially be out of my house June 30 -- I want to repair some kid damage and paint because my kids have flooded the upstairs bathroom several times and drawn on the walls, and Mar's school year doesn't end till June 15 or thereabouts -- but as soon as I am done with classes, and I have the time to drive Mar back and forth to school, we're going to be sleeping at A's.

I am exciting because I am always happier when I'm at A's. I wouldn't admit it to another human being, but I HATE living alone. I'm not good at it. I slack off on cooking and cleaning, because my kids hate real food and all they do is trash the house as soon as it's clean so why bother? and then I hate myself, for being a slob and not making the effort to cook for my family.

Matt picked out the house when we moved to Connecticut -- he was already working here -- and was never my style; it's a cookie-cutter two-story duplex with obnoxious, anal landlords and no character whatsoever. Ambivilence quickly turned to dislike when the sewage pump got funky and sewage flooded my basement three times in less than six months. The neighbors are white, cookie-cutter and profoundly unfriendly (I think being friendly to your neighbors may be illegal in Connecticut) and the whole house, Matt's house, is a daily all-pervasive reminder that he left me. The kitchen counters are forest green and I hate that, too. I hate green.

I love A's house because she is there, mostly -- A, two dogs, two cats, two ferrets, two birds and four chickens and gardens that need resuscitating (I love gardening and yard-work) and a fenced-in backyard. It's funny that right before I met A., she was thinking about becoming a foster parent because she had two upstairs bedrooms that she didn't use. Well, I have two kids. Could not have been more perfect. (The MB is downstairs, and there's also a small room that could easily be reconverted to a fourth bedroom if we have a kid ... which we want to ...)

I love being at A's because it makes me feel safe -- this sounds pathetic, but it's like all the good aspects of living "with a grown-up," minus the bad. She is very neat, the kind of person who folds laundry IMMEDIATELY when the dryer buzzes and does laundry constantly instead of letting it accumulate. I am the kind of person who lets it accumulate, although I HATE accumulation or visual clutter of any kind. I am really not good at housework -- I do it, and I keep my house fairly clean, but I always feel like I am behind and I don't know what I am doing. I find it relieving, or safe in a way, to do things the way A does them. She has told me to tell her if I think she's too anal, so she's not forcing anal on me -- but I think I like anal. My house growing up was always a hoarders-worthy disaster, which is why I really don't know how to clean; I always daydreamed about living in a house that was neat and where laundry was folded as soon as it came out of the dryer. That's A's house ... my childhood dream house.

Actually, the funny thing is, no matter how clean my house is, it never FEELS clean enough and even if A's house is messier than mine, it feel clean to me. No matter how much I clean my house I always see filth ... It's sort of like fat people who lose a lot of weight and still feel fat.

I like A's house because I KNOW it's clean.

I like waking up with her. I do that the majority of mornings anyway, but it would be nice if one of us wasn't always away from home when we wake up together.

I need to go study and fold my (vastly accumulated) laundry...

Yay for May!!!!



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