Only one post in June and none in July. Sigh.
Our ten-day road trip was pretty great. We didn’t get tired of each other or get snippy. There were only a couple times when my navigating led to confusion/frustration. B handled long days of driving well. We were so tired at the end of each day that I just wanted to sleep, so it wasn’t all romance all the time. But–we still liked each other at the end and were already talking about our next trip before that one had concluded. Good signs. We didn’t really talk about moving in together on the trip. I brought the books we’d checked out, but we didn’t end up reading them.
Health update. There’s something I’ve almost blogged about a few times and then put it off. Back in mid-May, I got my first UTI. It. was. horrible. Very painful and escalated to unbearable within a day. I took antibiotics and felt much–but not completely–better. An irritated, tingly feeling remained in my urethra, and I figured things just needed to heal and I’d be fine. But it hasn’t gone away. And I’ve googled a ton and gone to the doctor. I actually went before the trip (a month after onset), in hopes that if it was a yeast infection from the antibiotics, or group B strep from imbalance of healthy bacteria, I’d be able to get it treated and go on my merry way. But it wasn’t those things–nothing apparently diagnosable. Suffice it to say, a burning, irritated urethra does not make one feel very sexy. B has taken it very well on the whole. Of course he’s frustrated (and so am I). I want to want sex. And I keep planning for it and then not wanting it. But it’s gotten better, a little. I thought maybe I had interstitial cystitis (IC) with a bit of vulvodynia thrown in. Diet can help. Cutting out acidic foods (all the cranberry I was drinking at the start of this thing, for example). But it’s summer, and we’ve got a CSA box, and somebody’s got to eat the tomatoes, so I haven’t really attempted “the IC diet” to see if anything improves. Anyway, it’s been over two months now, and the symptoms come and go. Perhaps everything just went a little haywire, nerve-wise, and it needs to set itself to rights. I have felt extremely frustrated and sad. (Why is this happening? As if I didn’t have enough to deal with sexually! Please, God, don’t let this be a permanent condition! I want to feel good! I want to feel sexy! I want to want sex!) And maybe it’s been so long that this is my new normal. Or maybe it really is slowly, slowly healing. I hope it’s the latter.
At the end of June, B decided that I should just move in at the end of July. Originally, he had wanted things to calm down at work (his boss was leaving and he was taking over until they’d hire someone, or officially promote him), so the date was up in the air. Once decided, July was the month of packing and moving and organizing and cleaning. And I am glad it’s over. I’ve never moved into a place that’s already full. Our places are both small, about the same size, and we needed to fit my household into his. Oy. I’ve never moved into a place that isn’t clean. He asked what he needed to do before I moved in, and I said, “a deep cleaning.” But it just didn’t happen. It wasn’t as if he could clean everything and then move all my things in. We started moving stuff over July 4th, and every weekend since. So we’d clean a spot, and put stuff on it. Clean a spot, put stuff on it. Anyway, enough of that. All my furniture and most everything else was moved in July 26th. We cleaned my old place, and I turned in my keys yesterday. Done. Not. Now I have to unpack here.
Even though we didn’t get to the books, we have talked out a few things–like cleaning and finances and time to ourselves. And we agreed on basic balances like if one person cooks, the other does the dishes. So far, the first week, we’ve pretty much failed. I’m so tired. Physically exhausted from cleaning mini blinds while on a step ladder and other tasks I don’t usually do. Stressed. B is stressed too, from still being in charge at work, and going on another interview… I wondered in the last post how soon it would feel like drudgery, and it already does. Crap, we need to eat dinner. Crap, we need to clean up dinner. I get into bed at 9pm or 9:30 so tired. No sex so far this week. B would have been up for it, but I just wasn’t. I have hope that things will settle down eventually, I’ll get everything unpacked and take a deep breath and have energy again.
I have discovered something about myself. I prefer morning sex. When I’ve heard people talk about this kind of thing, I thought it sounded a bit silly. But now I know what it feels like to fall into bed and be drifting off when my partner finally joins me and would like some attention. No, thank you. Not now. I’m asleep. In the morning, I’m awake, rested, feeling better. I feel even better, and sexier, after I’ve showered. My ideal scenario is that we wake up, shower (separately), and get back into bed. Yep. Of course that only works on weekends. Maybe I only have enough energy for sex on weekends. We’ll see how everything goes. At the very least, if B wants sex, then we need to go to bed early so I’m still awake enough to participate!
Perhaps this post is a bit too real-lifey. We’re good. That first night I was here, he whispered as I was falling asleep, “Thank you for moving in with me.” We love each other. I have too much stuff. Things will settle down soon.