When Significant Other is away - like he has been for about four of the last six weeks - any form of routine that we have set up over the last year of living together flies straight out of the window.
While he is the more "detail oriented" of the two, and organised almost to the point of obsessiveness, I have the tendency to be quite disorganised - a trait not helped by my propensity to accumulate bits of paper wherever I go. Honestly, you should see the bag I carry to work. It leaves the house with me every morning carrying just the book in which I hold all the little bits of paper that would otherwise be left running all over the place (tickets, flyers, lists, etc). It returns at the end of the day bursting with - at the very minimum - three newspapers, a magazine, a couple of invites or flyers, receipts... No wonder our recycling bags are always the biggest in the whole block. We must be responsible for around half the recycling that gets shipped out of this country!
After a few days of being home alone, our room - which since the arrival of New Flatmate also doubles up as our study - begins to look more and more like the picture of Francis Bacon's studio which I keep by my computer. Worn clothes are left on the back of chairs only to be retrieved when there's a last-minute what-to-wear panic before leaving for work and piles of more books, newspapers, etc cover every surface that isn't already jam-packed with bits and pieces accumulated over the years. Of course in my head, there's a constant "I must get it all organised" ticking away, but being quite a procrastinator it tends to stay there until absolutely necessary.
It doesn't help that when I'm in town alone, I tend to go out much more than I would when SO is here, which gives me less time to do the things that need doing. Rather than sit at home watching telly (and feel guilty about not doing the things I should be doing), I try to catch up with people I don't see that much anymore (which happens when you start to live with someone), usually over dinner, which has the added bonus of having no clearing up or washing up to do. Oddly enough, I've even noticed that it is sometimes even cheaper than eating at home.
These last two weeks have been particularly active. With lots of Maltese in town - including Dear Family Members - I've spent hardly any time indoors. There was also London Fashion Week (I eventually made it to two shows and a party), dinner with a friend I've not seen for a year and was bursting with news over her marriage proposal, and a night out bar-hopping. No wonder the plants on the patio are looking a bit worse for wear. I usually water them in the evenings, so there hasn't been much time for that.
Since SO was returning home last night, I had all the good intentions of coming home and getting everything organised. I even feigned a headache at work to leave an hour earlier and get things going, but of course I got sidetracked at the supermarket so by the time he got home, my clearing up had only just started.
By the time you are reading this, normality would have settled into this household again. Everything will be returned to where it should be, and the flat will start to feel more like home.
The fact that I'm not "living alone" makes me less chaotic so bits that would eventually pile up are either disposed of on arrival or immediately placed where they should go. With no guilt about having things to do and not doing them, I am even a calmer person.
The bad news is that there might be another trip for SO in about two weeks' time. But I won't start worrying about that one yet. The weekend is here, and we've got a lot of catching up to do.
While he is the more "detail oriented" of the two, and organised almost to the point of obsessiveness, I have the tendency to be quite disorganised - a trait not helped by my propensity to accumulate bits of paper wherever I go. Honestly, you should see the bag I carry to work. It leaves the house with me every morning carrying just the book in which I hold all the little bits of paper that would otherwise be left running all over the place (tickets, flyers, lists, etc). It returns at the end of the day bursting with - at the very minimum - three newspapers, a magazine, a couple of invites or flyers, receipts... No wonder our recycling bags are always the biggest in the whole block. We must be responsible for around half the recycling that gets shipped out of this country!
After a few days of being home alone, our room - which since the arrival of New Flatmate also doubles up as our study - begins to look more and more like the picture of Francis Bacon's studio which I keep by my computer. Worn clothes are left on the back of chairs only to be retrieved when there's a last-minute what-to-wear panic before leaving for work and piles of more books, newspapers, etc cover every surface that isn't already jam-packed with bits and pieces accumulated over the years. Of course in my head, there's a constant "I must get it all organised" ticking away, but being quite a procrastinator it tends to stay there until absolutely necessary.
It doesn't help that when I'm in town alone, I tend to go out much more than I would when SO is here, which gives me less time to do the things that need doing. Rather than sit at home watching telly (and feel guilty about not doing the things I should be doing), I try to catch up with people I don't see that much anymore (which happens when you start to live with someone), usually over dinner, which has the added bonus of having no clearing up or washing up to do. Oddly enough, I've even noticed that it is sometimes even cheaper than eating at home.
These last two weeks have been particularly active. With lots of Maltese in town - including Dear Family Members - I've spent hardly any time indoors. There was also London Fashion Week (I eventually made it to two shows and a party), dinner with a friend I've not seen for a year and was bursting with news over her marriage proposal, and a night out bar-hopping. No wonder the plants on the patio are looking a bit worse for wear. I usually water them in the evenings, so there hasn't been much time for that.
Since SO was returning home last night, I had all the good intentions of coming home and getting everything organised. I even feigned a headache at work to leave an hour earlier and get things going, but of course I got sidetracked at the supermarket so by the time he got home, my clearing up had only just started.
By the time you are reading this, normality would have settled into this household again. Everything will be returned to where it should be, and the flat will start to feel more like home.
The fact that I'm not "living alone" makes me less chaotic so bits that would eventually pile up are either disposed of on arrival or immediately placed where they should go. With no guilt about having things to do and not doing them, I am even a calmer person.
The bad news is that there might be another trip for SO in about two weeks' time. But I won't start worrying about that one yet. The weekend is here, and we've got a lot of catching up to do.