cohabitation wonders and worries
April 12, 2005, 2:14 pm

Few things are more disconcerting than the feeling that your significant other is, in fact, from outer space.

This morning around 5:45a.m, Thumper put his arms around me and squeezed in a manner which outside of my coupledom may be referred to as a "bear hug" but I like to think of as a "Biensoul Burrito" as I am warm and my limbs spurt out like the insides of a microwaved burrito. In my burrito state, I either coo affectionately, swoon adoringly, or smack him to let go because he's grabbing my hair by mistake. This morning was a mix of the two former, and as I drifted back off to sleep, as is my custom when I'm in a state of bliss, I was stunned to feel Thumper shift next to me.

"Babe, I'm wide-awake."

Right-o. Usually when this sentence is uttered, it means I have to do my girlfriendly duty and put out; not so much this morning. Thumper bolts out of bed, and barrage begins,

"Babe, do you want eggs? I want eggs. I'm going to take a shower. You know, you should get up soon, hon. Sweetie, get up. Stop sleeping. Get up and take a shower. Come on, I made you coffee! Coffee! There are eggs! Do you want eggs?!?"

Ladies and gentlemen, the worm has turned. Usually I'm the one up at the butt-crack of dawn and miserably assailing HIM to wake up at 6:30am as I'm running out the door. For whatever reason, this morning he was feeling exceptionally jittery and alive. On a Tuesday.

Outer SPACE.

That's the thing I've discovered about living with someone you're in a relationship with: you learn more about yourself in the process. I find that I can co-exist peacefully with animals. I notice that I ENJOY doing his laundry because it makes the house nicer. I find closet organization to be a worthwhile enterprise. I STILL love to read in the bathroom, but I'm a little embarrassed to spend 45 minutes there. I like asking, "what are we having for dinner?" I snore. I need about 15 minutes of pure silence to do absolutely nothing a day or else I get really cranky. I am entirely too dependent on ESPN (I'm being broken of it). I like things that smell nice and despise any of the following odors: wet dog, dead flowers, and left-over vegetables. I am only neat and tidy when someone else is; conversely, I am a slob when someone else is, too.

Cohabitation? Dude, I'm already there. Yeah, I KNOW. Spare me the lecture, please, I'm aware this is too soon.