Living Life With Imac
So the last time I really check in on this blog I had just moved in with Imac and got horribly sick (those two things are mutually exclusive). Lets just say that my first experience of living with a guy that is not related to me has been.... interesting. Not that its bad. It's mostly little things that I've had to adjust to. The big thing is that I've gotten used to living a certain way over the years. Basically Imac keeps telling me to "stop acting poor."
For the record, I'm not actually poor. I grew up in a very nice although old house in a middle class neighborhood right outside of a military base. My family wasn't poor, but we weren't wealthy either. The house I grew up in was older and because of the age it didn't have a dishwasher (that was me) or counterspace really. Imac find all of this very sad, mostly because his family comes from money.
So when we moved into this very nice townhouse, I promptly freaked out about things. Not important things but like little things like the fact that I had an ice maker and water dispenser in my fridge door. Now most people would not care. That would not be me. I promptly freaked the fuck out and took like twenty pictures and sent them to my mom. I've never had a fridge with an ice and water dispenser in the door.
|I looked like this|
- The huge garden tub in my master bathroom
- Single Layer Toilet Paper (Imac said "oh hell no, we aren't using that").
- Having a Garage Door Opener (I've had a garage before just not one I could park in)
- Buying meat that isn't ground beef
- Buying more then a weeks worth of food at time
- Leaving the ceiling fan on all day
So apparently I act like a poor person. In fact, the one thing I expected to get made of fun of for, shopping at the Dollar Tree, he called "thrifty." I'm so confused by my life.