The Daily Durvy

Alex and I are not inherently neat people. We are, in fact, messy people. I like to think that he is the messier one, but when we get right down to it, he is not. While I cannot stand crap all over the floor, I think nothing of leaving the tables and couch covered in my latest project. He will leave diet coke cans on every available surface. I can deal until I see one without a coaster and then I go postal on his ass, screaming WHY THE HELL DON’T YOU HAVE A COASTER AGAIN??? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?

It’s only funny until it occurs to me that he probably is trying to kill me so he can have the the better side of the closet back.

Since moving in together, our shit has multiplied. I mean, literally. I feel like our clothing is sneaking off together when we go out for bagels and fucking profusely; before you know it BAM! SOCKS! BABY SOCKS ARE EVERYWHERE! AND NEVER IN PAIRS! Our computer cables are at the point of having grandchildren and if I see one more cable that charges something or converts something into something else I might just lose it. The coasters won’t even matter because I will be DEAD ALREADY.

And while the sock babies and the coasters are excitement enough, Alex and I are also in the habit of routinely walking around the living room and kitchen naked or in just underwear because we can. Because there are no roommates lurking out there watching bad reality television while we’re trying to be naked. It is wonderful. More pros include the ability to make dinner at 1 in the morning, starting spontaneous dance parties while cleaning and not having to ask someone if a) the slightly rotten fruit is theirs or b) why they drank the last of my raspberry vodka. While the second one is no longer a problem, regardless of living situation, it is a question I have had to ask roommates before.

Every once in a while, usually when we just wake up, Alex and I like to acknowledge the fact that we are lucky enough to live in such a beautiful home together. Sometimes we just remember that we have a couch or that everything in the refrigerator belongs to both of us, and sometimes we like to dance around the living room naked, just because we can.