The transition period from single to not is . . . well let’s just call it different for everyone. A haze of reformation or a knock down drag out fight for the control of one’s space. For those who’ve been properly house trained, this process is easier. For those of us with the occasional “hiccup” in our household refinement the process can be more of a chore. Toilet seats, the dishes, and let’s not forget the God damn cabinet doors.
I had lived with roommates in the past. I could tell you from day one how long I was going to be staying in particular roommates good graces and which ones I would not. Now, don’t get me wrong, all roommates will eventually squabble. Perfect Strangers, Full House, even the friends on Friends, they all got into it at some point. It’s human nature for people who live on top of each other to bicker. But there’s a reason they didn't make shows about a dude who doesn’t do the dishes when forcibly told by a roommate who then reprimands him in front of the other roommate. Who wants to live with that? I’ll just say I was in that place a month before dipping for greener less overtly parental pastures.
Lindsay never got down on me, thank God. Our intersection, which was more flawless during the honeymoon period, before we started having to share socks, had it’s growing pains. I can still remember one of the first nights in our apartment after she was bamboozled by a friend in a high stakes game of Monopoly. I was furious with her for not heeding my counsel. After that deceptive con-man won the game taking advantage of her innocence and her lack of attentiveness toward my advice I went to sleep good and pissed off. In the morning I woke up with her next to me. I was still steaming over the purples for the yellows deal. I looked over at her and knew I had to get my shit together. There was no room for childish fighting and grudges. This was the big time and I didn't want to blow it.
Over the next month or so I would be casually asked to do certain things that could cause hindrance to the household. Those cabinet doors and excessive conditioner use (she once flipped out on me for using too much conditioner...in fairness it was really expensive girly conditioner) were some of the habits in question. And over time those little rough spots smoothed out. Hey, for me, it’s all in the approach.
The convergence of points does not come without the occasional hiccup. I don’t care if Cesar Milan trained your ass, occasionally you are going to leave a spot on the rug. It’s what we do. But, when you really want to make it work, and the person is worth sticking around for, remembering to close cabinet doors or picking your clothes up off the bathroom floor is a small price to pay.
- Frank (trained cabinet door closer and excessive conditioner user)