I need to buy all new underwear

Tomorrow is moving day so quite clearly I have been doing everything in my power to not actually pack. Tomorrow being moving day, means that today is officially, for all intents and purposes, the very last day of my life I will live by myself (+2 cats). I’m dealing with it well, obviously.


I know what you’re thinking: what if he dies before you? He won’t. Hutchison’s never last too long and Weans tend to go on living forever. It is what it is, but based on what I’ve seen, I’ve got the better end of the deal.

There are things that no one seems to talk about when it comes to living with someone of the opposite sex. Things like: How I need to buy all new underwear. How I need to stop leaving my cereal bowl for the cats to drink out of every day. How I should probably shower/shave more. How I need to stop leaving a Hansel and Gretel style trail of bobby pins wherever I go.

I have this new theory that whoever thinks they are poor should be made to go through the process of moving to see whether or not they actually have something to gripe about. Apparently I’m a great deal wealthier than I’ve let on. I have. So much. Stuff.

To the point that I am 17 hours away from moving and only 60% done packing.



I will never underestimate my ability to accumulate stuff ever again.

Things I am looking forward to:

Being able to watch things like The Killing and Law and Order SVU (again) because a) I now have a great TV and can afford real cable and 2) because you simply cannot watch those kind of shows when you live by yourself in a first floor apartment with three separate locks and a chain on your front door.

Not having to eat every meal on my coffee table. Ok, that’s a lie. That’s a luxury.

Assuming that we’ll take one car when going to different places together. Are you driving? Pick me up. I’ll drive to your place and then you can drive and I’ll drive home after that.

Having plants. Because heaven knows I can’t keep a plant alive on my own for more than 20 minutes.

Living so close to a train station that actually goes to NY! Where you at tothesquareinch?

Having someone to lug the kitty litter in. Those 35lb boxes are no joke.

Living a bit closer to my parents (selfish!)(true!).

Real couches that I didn’t upholster with drop cloth.

Having Steve be like: Here’s $200, go get stuff we need at Target (no, for real, this happened the other day (best day of my life!)).

Living less than one mile away from said target.

Ugh, ok, I’ll stop blogging and attend to the 40% of things that I-wouldn’t-miss-if-I-lost-them packing I should have done a week ago.

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One thought on “I need to buy all new underwear

  1. When I first moved in with my boyfriend, I used to not let him wash my underwear. Sometimes there are holes or stains, but it was mostly because we have to go to a laundromat and he would – no joke – wave them around over his head. Without first checking for holes or stains. Underwear is a very personal thing…until you realize he doesn’t care that you’re seeing his undies with holes and WAY WORSE stains. After that it’s just deciding whether or not you can still love them, despite the fact that they are obviously the most disgusting human being in existence.

    And at that point, no one’s going to care about bobby pins or a little body hair.

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