If you've been wondering what to worry about....

In relationships - define relaionship however you like at this point - there are lots of things not to worry about. See, the whole point of a relationship is that you won't need to worry about anything but the shaving status of your legs. However, there are so many rules in this world that don't work out the way they're supposed to that I simply can't help but remind you of the crucial matters that come with your first weekend trip away together.

Bathrooms. I'm that far gone with my habit of pretending that human needs do not exist and therefore needn't ever be mentioned that I'll just say the following: Use the foyer bathroom for everything except for showers and makeup applications. It's just more stressfree. You might not always be able to send your company to the balcony, because they might not want to go outside when it's 30 degrees and freezing. I know. Incosiderate of them, isn't it.

Your inexplainable problems with things most people don't have problems with. I for one experience such pure ickiness whenever I have to sleep in sheets that aren't mine. I always keep a special pillow with me that my head doesn't stray from all night long, just so it doesn't touch a piece of strange fabric. I catch colds from the AC 'cause I don't pull the covers up over my shoulders so they don't come near my face. And that's when I'm in those perfectly anonymous hotel sheets. When I'm in an apartment and the linnens are patterned, or crincly, or both - I'd rather not think about how uncomfortable those nights will be. I know they're all clean, I still find it revolting. Now I've told my company about that - he still got us an apartment and I'm praying for white linnens or I already see myself freezing without any cover at all, clutching that pillow I've had forever.

The check question lasts three days long. I rarely get out my purse fast enough to credibly assure him that I do want to pay for myself, but that doesn't have anything to do with me not really wanting it - I'm just not always listening to the waiter/waitress so I don't catch what's going on fast enough to yell "I'll take my share!" before he mutters softly (like a real gentleman who doesn't talk about money) "It's okay". Also, he always pays for both of us or just himself, but I never take it all on me 'cause I'm a bad person. That might be okay for a dinner or a movie, but I definitely won't be ripping him off for every breakfast, lunch, dinner, coffee, cocktail and museum. I need to work out a plan, like, letting him get dinner because that's romantic and share lunch and breakfast because no one needs that and take the drinks on me because "Thank you for dinner". Gosh, I know why no one likes to talk about that kind of thing: Not because it's obscene, but because it gives you a headache.

The food routine in general. Are we gonna go out for everything? Cause I would like that. There's something about imagining us sitting around a breakfast table full of food that makes me sick that is seriously disturbing to me. Homely scenes only appeal to me at nighttime. You know, sitting in front of the fireplace with a bottle of wine, watching a movie with a bottle of wine, the likes. Does he even eat all of the meals I need to have in order to survive/be satisfied? I know he's one of those admirable people who can wait for lunch until 3 pm when nothing comes up before that - I'm not. Except for when I'm really happy (strange but true). In conclusion, he better keep my spirits up!

His reaction to the absolutely ridiculous amount of stuff you turn up with. He might have thought I'm a pretty reasonable person, but that illusion is gonna be a fargone memory as soon as he sees the five pairs of shoes and the three kinds of jackets I am bringing for two nights away. Not to mention the content of my carry-on suitcase. I started off by laying out outfits on my bed and color coordinating skirts with cardigans and following all those packing advises and ended up throwing everything in that I saw in my closet and that looked like it could be worn under a coat. Which is a lot, if you ever wondered. Oh, well.

I bet there's something I didn't even think of yet. Please don't tell me - I'm relatively calm as of now, and that's irritating enough as it is. Until Sunday....

Love,

Rosy Smith