I subscribe to the Boy Scout “be prepared” mantra.
Therefore I don’t pack light.
I’ve noticed over the years that in most cases, women tend to stay at their guy’s place more often than he at hers. Why is this? For me, it’s always been a matter of convenience. Kevin lives downtown, which is where we want to be.
My work schedule is odd, so for my other two Raleigh guys it often made more sense for me to go over to his place after work. In truth, it was very inconvenient for me to drive out to Brier Creek after work to see Darren. Yet I still did, probably because I was a bit of a doormat in that relationship.
These days I basically live with Kevin, but downtown parking forces me to move my car before I have to be at work. So to avoid tickets and parking deck fees, I still go home each morning. That means constantly carrying a backpack of comfy after-work clothes, a book and whatever other “be prepared” miscellany I might require.
I typically spend around five nights straight at Kevin’s house around weekends. For those weekends I look like a bag lady. I walk in with a backpack, laptop bag, work bag, duffel bag — the same bag I pack when I go on trips. It’s like going on vacation.
In past relationships, I’ve left my mark in a guy’s bathroom by leaving a container of contact solution and a case for sleepovers.
“It’s a necessity,” I explain. “I can’t sleep in my contacts.”
They’re always ok with that and offer room for a toothbrush. Over the months I might add a pillow, but usually nothing more. I feel like an intruder, hoping to leave a few items that make sleepovers more convenient. So I never try to take more stuff. Especially with Frank, who owned his own house and was very set on his bachelorhood and his space. (Should’ve made note of that, but live and learn.)
With Kevin – no problem. He even cleaned out his closet and made some room for me. Now THAT’S true love, no?
But I’m still carrying a backpack. So if you see me walking around with three or four bags, don’t worry – I’m not homeless. I actually have two homes. It’s just this Boy Scout mantra of mine, and it’s turning into a backache.