Our friend, J, has fallen on hard times and needs a place to crash. We have a 1600 square foot house, of which we are using only approximately 400 square feet. She's moving in today.
I'm not sure how I feel about this. I am a creature of habit, and my habit doesn't typically involve interacting with people other than Jimi after I get home. I'm afraid I'll either be a cold, heartless, silent biotch, giving off a "IF YOU TALK TO ME I MAY CUT YOU" vibe, or that I'll try to be all "HEY, YOU'RE HERE!!! LET'S HANG OUT" because I'll think that's what she wants and then I'll resent her for taking up my valuable "silent" time.
See? I really am crazy.
And I like being able to walk around the house naked. Not all the time, I'm not one of those. But I do like to get out of the shower in the morning, dry off, hang my towel, and walk my happy naked butt down to the basement where my clothes all live. Pick out the day's choices, walk my happy naked butt back upstairs to get dressed. Jimi bought me a fabulous robe for Christmas the year we met - I've not seen it since we moved into this house and that concerns me since it's bright orange and kinda hard to miss. Now I'm going to have to find it. And wear it. All the time.
Is it completely effed up that this minor inconvenience is turning me into a whiny baby? There's something wrong with me. I'm a bad person.
And then there's the fact that we're slobs. There's no polite way to put that, and I'm not going to try to qualify the term. We're slobs; and any mental images you're able to conjure, well, our house has probably looked like that at least once. And now we're going to have to try harder to not suck as bad at housekeeping. And I really suck at housekeeping.
She's only here for two months. That's long enough to change a habit, right? Like, maybe we'll get used to picking our shit up off the floor. Maybe we'll get used to putting our shoes away. Maybe it'll become habit to do the dishes every night instead of waiting for them to pile up so that nothing more can fit into the sink, not even a spoon.
And one day, maybe pigs will fly.