But I'm not in trouble.
For the past two weeks, I have had straight men in my house -- the first week, it was an out-of-town friend from NYC who was here for SXSW. Next, it was my ex from a year or so ago. Yes, we're still friends and we still chat from time-to-time... but why did we break up, you ask? The short answer is: he moved to another state. The long answer is far too uninteresting for outsiders; I'll spare you the details (you're welcome, btw).
It was strange having him around, but it was only a temporary thing, so neither of us cared enough to freak out about it. Sure, it was fun playing house for a few days and we both benefited from it -- he didn't have to fork out any cash for a hotel room, and I now have a clean kitchen and a freshly mowed front yard. (Ahem, *yes* I am talking about grass, the green kind.)
It's been awhile since I've shared space and had any snuggle time with a boy (sidenote: the NYC friend and I are not friends in that way). Strangely, what I noticed was that for every plus there was a minus (tiny imperfections?): I had interrupted sleep from a 6ft tall monster in my bed, but fresh coffee and breakfast made for me in the morning; a stinky boy stinking up my previously un-stinky house, but stereotypical guy chores being completed for me while I plugged away at the office during the day.
His departure this afternoon was met with equally mixed emotions -- I'm glad to have my bed back, but no longer have him around to share dinner with and curl up together on the couch; and even though he may have inconvenienced me a little, he showed his gratitude by replenishing my pantry and tackling my yard. I was excited this evening when, after a really tough brain-draining day, I opened up my fridge to find that he had left behind the best treat of all: a six-pack of beer. Just what I needed! Except... that there were only five. Ha.
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