I don't know if anything challenges a relationship more than moving. Five months in a different country didn't bring out the worst in me and my boyfriend like moving does. I think that's why so many people preach about getting married first, its not the act of living together, its the act of moving. They probably think if there's a ring on it you won't kill each other. Star Trek posters, massive freecycle dressers that he refuses to get rid of "can I take my beer poster" "no" have all become the bane of my existence.
My family is full of hoarders which makes me terrified of stuff. I like to throw things away, I like as little stuff as possible in my homes that are not my parent's. True, when I am living in my childhood bedroom it slowly fills up with clothes and chachkas as I revert back to some of my younger habits (I think this is common parent's house behavior) but when it comes to MY space, I need it to be clutter free.
This has lead to all sorts of tiffs and trials. "That dresser is ugly" "it's perfectly good" "its huge" "I like it" "I don't" "I don't tell you to throw your stuff away" "I don't have 'stuff'"
"Are we really taking the star trek poster?" "it's framed" "it's a star trek poster" "I like star trek" "it can go in the kitchen." (I've decided the kitchen is where all the rejected artwork can live) "it's a movie poster, it goes with the movies, its going in the living room" "i hate everything."
We have two more days before the move is complete. If we don't kill each other we're probably meant to be...
I really hate the dresser.
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