Yum Dinger and I are now officially cohabitating and blissfully living in sin. He moved in a few weeks ago and I must admit that becoming a domestic goddess has been a little tougher than I had hoped it would be. As a mostly single person for the past three years, I have become accustomed to jammin out with my clam out any old time I feel like it. Not being able to walk around the apartment in my birthday suit singing Wanted Dead or Alive has taken some getting used to.

Though this is not the first time in our long history to play house together we are certainly being more adult about it on our second try. (When I say we, I really mean just me.) Surprisingly enough I am learning how to share rather quickly. However the whole principle of “keeping my hands, feet and all other objects to myself” still escapes me. It is safe to say that my reputation of not playing well with others is quickly recovering from a long history of failed attempts. My 1st grade teacher, Mrs. Forton would be prouder than the parent of a fat kid in a cake eating contest at my recent skill development.

Life as an adult has certainly taken me by surprise, but I must admit that where I am now is exactly where I am meant to be.