It’s time for another confession. I promised myself that I would never again let my life revolve around a boyfriend, and I’m keeping this promise, but PIC and I are spending a lot of time together. And because he works downtown (and I live just a short subway ride from downtown), he stays over more nights than not.
This is a new thing for me. I’ve never not been in a long distance relationship before. TWD lived 90 minutes away near the Jersey shore, and even though the European was local, he lived and worked in the suburbs and rarely had time to get together during the week.
Plus, this is my first time living on my own. This is the first time it’s been okay for me have a boyfriend spending the night for days on end because I’m almost 30 years old and it’s my house.
It’s been lovely: the elaborate dinners, the learning of routines, the non-stop make out sessions, and we had what was, quite possibly, the greatest Valentine’s Day weekend of my entire life, but sometimes it gets to be a bit… too much.
We’re both very independent people. And we’re both a bit introverted. Plus I have this thing about keeping my bedroom clean because it’s the one room in the entire house that’s finished and he has thing about leaving half empty seltzer bottles on the floor.
So we decided to take a mandatory two days “off” each week.
(I also gave him an entire closet in which to keep his things and spoke to him about the seltzer bottles; they are no longer an issue.)
I like call these two days our “self care” days. This is because the majority of my friends are either Quakers or yogis (or both). I spend my nights off in the bath tub watching West Wing or painting my nails—with intention, mind you—and I get caught up on laundry and cleaning and… oh yeah… sleep. (Although, truth be told, PIC did laundry all weekend- his and mine- so I am, miraculously, all caught up without having lifted a finger.)
PIC calls these two days our “self help” days because he does not hang out with Quakers or yogis and finds my new age terminology a bit dippy. But I don’t care. As long as he is at his apartment eating his kale to his heart’s content (he is really into kale), he can call our days off whatever he wants.
Usually we take our days off on Mondays and Tuesdays (which means I’ll be spending the evening with my buddies CJ, Josh and Toby). Earlier this month though, we did Friday and Saturday instead because I had plans with one of my girlfriends to go to a Coach Bag bingo fundraiser (which is exactly as wonderful and ridiculous as it sounds) and the New Kat does not cancel plans with her girlfriends to go out with her boyfriend.
I feel a bit silly sometimes, scheduling time off, but things are progressing rather quickly. He has no less than three pairs of shoes here right now and we’re talking about… well, actually I’ll hold off on that for now. In the meantime, how do those of you with live in or semi-live in partners make it work?