Losing It

My fear that dating would eat my brain has been realized.

While no one who has known me for more than a week will tell you that I'm the most level-headed and together woman, I think that in the past few years I've been doing an acceptable job of keeping track of my crucial personal belongings (give or take a couple of shoes) under most conditions. At least I haven't locked myself out of my apartment in years.

Since I started hanging around with MJP, I've been leaving my stuff all over the place again. Yesterday, I went to visit him on a school night, in part to pick up the backpack that I'd left in his car. On the PATCO ride to his place, I realized that I'd left my cell phone at home, so I couldn't contact him directly to let him know when to meet me at the station. Much confusion followed.

Being completely single for most of my adult life, I've come to expect very little assistance when schlepping my stuff around. Now that I have access to someone who will voluntarily lift things for me, I think it's going to my head.

The good news is that leaving my things with MJP gives me more excuses to see him in between our regularly scheduled meetings.