I, W, have been talking to M, my mom, my friends, and pretty much anyone who will listen recently at how strange it is to be living with T. Not because of who he is, or because of any strange habits that he may or may not possess, but because he is a GUY.
I don't know if any of you out there have ever lived with a man, but it is a very weird phenomenon.
I have had lots of roommates over the years. 11 to be exact-- not including my first and longest-lasting roommate and wombmate (get it!?) M. Each of my roommates had their own quirks, and I have enjoyed living with most of them and have learned a lot through each of them. My roommates have been snorers and insomniacs, writers and engineers, bakers and take-out orderers, cleaners and potential future hoarders, social butterflies and introverts... I've experienced the roommate continuum from end to end.
But, until about a month ago, I had never had a roommate who was of the Y-chromosome variety, and that has been an interesting experience indeed. Note: these thoughts are not disparage my new husband or call him out on weird habits. Instead, they are only meant to highlight some of the differences between us that I think other wives or girlfriends may recognize and sympathize with. I also recognize that these traits may be shared by XX-chromosome friends, and in that case, I probably would have thought it just as strange had you been my roommate instead of T.
Anyway, the big question always seems to be, "Why in the world would you do that?" Examples include:
- Setting three alarms that go off at 7-minute intervals for a complete hour and a half before said husband has to get up. One alarm is set to a radio station, which blasts 1000+ decimal sounds from the bathroom. These have been affectionately labeled, "the jams." I HATE the jams.
- Buying enough beer to fit the fridge and to take up the entire bottom shelf of our pantry. First, I don't drink beer. Second, T is so busy that we never really have friends over who can drink the beer. Doesn't beer go bad? Don't we have more important things in our 800 sq foot apartment to store than extra cases of beer?
- Deciding to eat sushi as his first meal after a 48-hour bout with seafood-borne food poisoning. No explanation here for why this is baffling to me.
- T's propensity, upon coming home from work, to remove all clothing deemed unnecessary.
- T's ability to fall asleep pretty much anywhere, at any time, in any position, provided I have just scratched his back.
- His love of grilling-- anything-- while defiantly stating that he refuses to cook because he doesn't know how.
What's so funny about all of this is how much T prides himself on being logical. He thinks he is pretty much the most logical person in the world, and tends to lord it over my head that he is logical and thinks with his head to my emotional, think-with-my-heart tendencies. But in looking at this list, these things just don't seem logical to me. If we're tight on space, why buy more beer than you can drink in a month if I go to the grocery store every week and have promised to keep a full stock? If you are constantly sleep deprived because of your job, why interrupt your sleep with constant alarms for an hour and a half when you could be getting more deep, restorative sleep during that time? And for goodness sake, if seafood made you so sick that you couldn't eat for 2 full days, why would you choose more seafood to eat on your first day back!?
I guess this just shows that we all have our own type of logic, and what makes sense to one person for one reason may not make sense to another. It all comes down to what we value and our priorities in life-- do we value feeling good more than we love sushi? Depends on the person.
What do you think? Is logic absolute? Is there always one smart, right, logical way of doing something? Or is it malleable depending on the situation at hand and what someone wants out of it?
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