*maybe, or potentially in the next eight to 10 years, when Phil *ahem* asks me. Let me explain…Read More
Flat pack furniture has long been considered DIY hell. It’s a seriously good relationship test. Phil and I decided it was a splendid idea to test ourselves with such a feat…
We popped by Argos and picked ourselves up two white bookshelves and a white coat/hat stand for our hallway. One (and possibly the only) downside of moving into our own place was the reduction in wardrobe space. As in, we now have to SHARE. Tantrums were had, clothes were thrown, Read More
…and there’s been far more nudity than predicted. I think it’s purely that we can walk around naked, that WE DO. Phil will walk out of the shower each morning and give his bits a shake in my direction. It’s become a morning greeting. I enjoy it.
I’m a planner. I fucking love it. I blame my job. I draw up spreadsheets of costs, days, nights being stayed, and what we will see and do. The lot. I love being organised. I love lists. Scraping your pen across something you’ve just completed is a huge accomplishment in my world. Even if the item stated “drink water”. Small wins.
While reading a book of Maria Semple’s (who is fast becoming my favourite author. Ever.) she brought up the phenomenon of the Helpless Traveller. I love this. Because it’s me all over. The concept of the Helpless Traveller is when you are travelling with someone who is confident, organised and decisive, they are competent, while you, flounder at every turn. Helpless and complaining of sore feet, having no input to decision making and being as melodramatic as possible. “Just feed me, I’m starving and my stomach is starting to absorb my other organs from hunger.”
This Sunday, for the first time since the man and I got together properly (after the first two times) in January, was the first day I felt like I needed space. When I say “space” I don’t mean anything drastic. I mean a day to myself for some R&R. Not to have to answer questions or direct him in his daily events or attend to his puppy nature. Just to sit on the sofa and watch some trashy telly or soak in a tub overfilling with bubbles. We’d just come back from Prague so I was tired and just not in the mood. I know most people have moments like this in their relationships but it was significant for me as it was the first time with him. Ever.
We’ve lived together for three years prior to us dating this last year. It is one of those 21st century relationships that started with a bit of flirting and an alcohol infused one night stand. Don’t judge, he was only up the stairs! Anyway, we absolutely ballsed up the first two times, but this time is different. It’s real and we’re both 120% committed. I never question that.
He knew I wasn’t in to it on Sunday, he can read my mood a mile off. He knows that if he gives me a cookie to shove in my face I’ll be a happy girl once again. This was proven once again by my sudden mood improvement while scoffing down a Christmas mince pie. Sometimes a gal just needs some sugar and carbs. Don’t question it, just provide, guys.
Bottomline, I adore him. But sometimes I need to pull myself out of the “us” and be the “me”.