So, I have been totally and utterly sucking at writing this blog lately. There are a few reasons for this. Firstly I have been suffering from a multitude of first world atrocities such as moving (into a beautiful 3 bedroom house with the man I love – renting that is, after all it’s still Auckland and I haven’t won lotto), going on holiday (to Melbourne…for free), working (on one of the most important, enjoyable and fulfilling campaigns of my life), spending time with people (my best friends and family) and other such horrible events. At a few points I’ve found myself complaining about how things are SO stressful and how I’ve got SO much on my plate right now. And then I took a good hard look at myself and shut my goddamn ungrateful bitch mouth. Yes, I’ve been busy but (bar a couple of actual hiccups) all of these things are incredible and heart warming and I am literally the luckiest person alive. Funny how you can so easily forget than when faced with the ‘perils’ of everyday life.
The fact of the matter is that I’ve felt like I haven’t been able to write because I’m happy and that happy equates to boring. What can I possibly write about now that people will want to hear? Surely you want to read about the ugly world of dating and the daily struggles of spinsterdom and my growing cat collection, not about me sitting at home with my boyfriend, sipping on a chilled glass of Sauv and grazing on a carefully prepared antipasto platter. (I mention this because it happens a lot. Consequently, we’ve now reached full panic stations because we’re at the pinnacle of our winter bodies and it’s nearly November. Our household has erupted into a sudden frenzy of impromptu runs and shaky half-assed yoga sessions in a meek attempt to feel better about ourselves). Anyway, I digress. What I have discovered is that despite the fact that I’m (semi) adulting now, there are still plenty of hilarious, cringeworthy and mortifying things to write about. For example watching your other half emphatically practicing his helicopter technique in the bathroom, a look of furrowed concentration on his face, oblivious to the fact that he’s in full view of the house next door. I’m sure our neighbours were faced with some harrowing questions from their two and four year old after that, sorry. Or me having the shits when he’s home, patting myself on the back for being a ninja and getting away with it unnoticed, only to hear him bellow from the bathroom later on ‘honey, I think you’ve left some splashback’. Oh the horror. The other day at work, I transported a whole car-load of work colleagues to an offsite meeting. This wouldn’t have been so bad had one of them not discovered an abandoned pair of my dirty undies lurking in the car from god knows how long ago and announced ‘I think I’ve found a pair of your undies’. I die.
Over and above that, being in a committed relationship means having to navigate the many domestic idiosyncracies of another person. Here’s a list of some of the items that we’re currently working through:
- Which way the cutlery actually goes into the dishwasher.
- When it’s appropriate to go and sleep in the spare bed due to lack of sleep from your partner’s snoring / farting / twitching / duvet thievery etc etc.
- Which device and room each of us is allocated when I want to watch my quote punishing programmes unquote (aka Married at First Sight) and he wants to watch actual intellectual and important things like the news, pfft.
- How many snacks to provide me before dinner so I don’t get hangry and morph into a rabid hell-beast from the fiery chasms of hades. You see he likes to spend tiiiiiime cooking and when it’s his turn to cook, I often don’t get fed until around 9 o’clock at night. By which time I’ve resorted to foraging around the house for stray insects and lint and other things that could potentially provide me sustenance. We’ve actually since remedied this by him throwing me morsels of food such as half a chicken leg or a stray carrot until the meal is ready.
- Why there needs to be the earth’s largest body of water on our bathroom floor each time he showers.
- Why I have 12,672 pairs of shoes but only ever wear three.
- Which Netflix series to watch that neither of us has seen and that we both enjoy. I see this being by far the biggest challenge that we’ll have to face. Pray for us people, the future is bleak.
Overall life is pretty damn good and if you hear me complaining you have my permission to administer a savage back-hander to the side of my head.
– Nic xx