The 7 Days of Mrs. Lim

Okay it's officially been seven days since I signed my singledom away. I've moved in with my lovely in-laws (how many of you can put those two words together, so yes, I'm showing off) for now until our place is up and ready. So far:

1. I've locked my husband out of our bedroom 3 times. Look, this 'room sharing' thing is new to me, ok? I keep forgetting he sleeps in the same room.

2. I've locked my father-in-law out of the house once. Well to be fair, he forgot his keys and I couldn't hear him. He had to call my handphone. Oops.

3. Strangely, I love doing laundry. Sorting the colours and separating the whites. Making sure I use the most wangi fabric softener. Arranging my clothes on the line according to size. Go figure.

4. I am eating more vegetables. My mother-in-law is a vegetarian after all.

5. I realise we may have a queen sized bed but I still sleep riiiiiiiiight at the edge because I want to be in my own bubble when I sleep.

6. I also discovered manicured nails and housework do not go hand in hand. Duh.

7. I still visit my parents almost everyday. Separation anxiety?

8. Blanket, my cat, is merajuking big time since I moved out of the house. He doesn't eat as much and he spends most of his time under my parents' bed. *ehek*

9. It may be hard living with a boy but every morning I wake up and realise how much I love living with THIS boy.

Oh and whenever people call me Mrs. Lim, I think of my math teacher. Yikes.

I have to live with a boy.

There is an episode of 'Friends' where Rachel has to move out of Monica's apartment. Together with Phoebe, the two room mates sit together and contemplate the wonderful things about each other and although Monica is happy to take the next step in her relationship with Chandler, she bursts out crying, "...And now I have to live with a BOY!!!!"

I am sitting in that chair right now, with the same thought playing in my head. In my frenzy of getting married, it wasn't until recently that it dawned upon me: I have to SHARE my space. With a boy, no less.

Ok this should go without saying - I love this boy. Love him to pieces. But understand that in my 31 years of existence, I have never moved in with a boyfriend. Sure, we have weekend getaways and the occasional sleepovers. But the beauty of such was that within 48 hours, he was out the door and I was back wearing my granny panties (oh please, I know you wear them too) and sleeping with my cats.

I suppose moving in with your partner is truly a big step and a test of your relationship. And being married means there is no 'Get Out Of Jail for Free' card. It means that you are are committed to each other and will love him, man-boobs and all. I'm definitely anxious about discovering each other's - how shall I put it - eccentricities. You could be dating someone for ten years but once you move in with them, it's like getting to know them all over again.

Which also brings me to the point that this could be very refreshing for any relationship. And although I am filled with anxiety, doubt and, yes, panic, I am also excited, curious and oh-so-elated. Because as long as he's willing to make room for my shoes, I can handle dirty socks on the floor now and then.