Member-only story
One selfish reason I love having company
It forces me to take better care of myself
When my ex left, I was discombobulated. Sorry, I love that word. And it describes how I felt perfectly. I mean, aside from the emotional pain, there was also the whole figuring out how my life worked again. Because he’s the organized one. He knows where everything goes. He is the one who had file folders, so any time I needed the manual for one of our appliances or last year’s tax forms or, well, anything, abracadabra, there it was.
He used to tease me that, left to myself, instead of files, I’d have miles of piles. He’s right, though.
I am a very clean person. I always wash dishes right after I use them for example. I am sensitive to smells so anything rotting or dirty would be fanatically attacked. But piles of paper? Or yarn? Or books? Or games?
After he left, for a while I tried to maintain the systems he left behind. But it doesn’t come naturally to me. Besides, there were gaps everywhere. In the cupboard, he’d organized everything, but now there were holes in the org chart, and what did I fill them with? Should I stick to his system or try to find my own? How did I even go about it?
Then there was also the matter of cooking.
