If someone were to pick three words to describe me they might say sweet, goofy, and smoking hot, but the word adventurous would never cross their mind. For good reason, I’m not. I’ve never been one to go dive off the deep-end, or not spend a lifetime going over every worst possible consequence for every possible choice I could make. Before deciding to make the wrong choice anyway. Because that is just how I roll.
Everyone has heard the old adage, “If you fall off a bike, get back on again.” When I was learning to ride a bike I fell off as everyone does. I got a pretty nasty boo boo. Plus, I had to spend the next few years of my life having to relearn how to trust my mother, because she lied to me when she told me she wouldn’t let go of the handlebars. Lies she had told me, a WEB of lies. Yeah, and then she wanted to teach me to drive. Like that was going to happen. After falling off the bike, like every other reasonable five year old in the world, I didn’t get back on a bike for five years.
I like my routines; I’ve done things the same way for as long as I can remember. So living with Adam has been quite the change for me. Living with someone isn’t like being at Burger King, you can’t have it your way. At least not all the time. Living with Adam is mostly like having cake and eating cake. And not any cake, a big piece of yellow cake smothered in white icing. But there are times when I think if he would just do it my way (which is no doubt the best way), Things would be so much easier!
But really even though it makes me more than slightly uneasy to change the ways I have practiced since I was in the womb (I hate the word womb, doesn’t it sound disgusting? That and the word appetite, eww). It’s good that he is turning things around for me. Because a little change never killed anyone. Remind me of that when I’m lying in a coffin because my fiancé let dishes pile up in the sink so high that they resembled the leaning tower of Pisa.