By Drew Adamek
I’ve been married for a year-and-a-half. I’ve known my wife for eight years; we’ve been living together for five.
I enjoy everything about being married: the companionship; the shared responsibilities; the ups and downs. Marriage, and the attendant maturity and growth that comes with it, is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I am constantly surprised by how easily I’ve settled into married life. For most of my adulthood, I was either a dedicated commitment-phobe or a 300-pound slob who couldn’t get a girlfriend.
My bachelorhood was a miserable experience punctuated by long stretches of loneliness, bitterness and frustration. I didn’t have the emotional maturity or bravery to be a very good dater. I was either running away from or desperately clinging to former girlfriends, and I made unnecessary messes out of a lot of relationships for whatever fucked-up emotional reasons that were driving me at the time.
But a great therapist, a few really tough learning experiences and a fantastic woman changed all that. I can happily report that all of the silliness and frustration of being single is long, long, gone – and I don’t miss most of it for a second.
But I do miss about a few things about being single; mostly living like an impulsive, neurotic, compulsive slob.
Here, then, are ten things I miss about being single:
1. That’s Mr. Hormel.
The look of raw disgust and horror that crossed my soulmate’s face the first time I cracked open a can of Hormel Turkey chili and dug in with a spoon ended that habit. I was 30 before I started heating my food, and I still sneak-eat out of a can of tuna or refried beans when the wife’s not around. What? It doesn’t taste that much different and saves me a dirty dish.
2. Thrashing All Around.
I appreciate NPR and the dulcet tones of Terry Gross. I do, sweetie, really I do. However, if I really want to get ready for my day, then I need Loud Fucking Metallica at 8 a.m. to get me going. These days, in the Adamek household, Metallica is limited to my headphones, at a volume that does not disturb the Punky while she is reading the paper or thinking about organizing the drapes.
3. Aqua Teen Hunger Force Marathons.
I owned every season of ATHF when my wife moved in. Now, she didn’t say I had to get rid of them; in fact, I don’t think she ever cared that they existed. But the idea of being a 32-year-old man in a pair of old flip-flops, ratty sweatpants and a dirty t-shirt watching cartoons while my dearly beloved looked on didn’t appeal to me; sitting in the dark and going all Beavis and Butt-head over a cartoon is fine when there is no one else around, but having someone watch is a little much.
4. Junk Closet.
For some reason, the lovely doesn’t understand why I need two left skates, a ripped Iron Maiden poster and a box full of Walkmans that don’t work. I fight my inner pack rat all the time; slowly losing that battle was a small pleasure that’s gone in the new era of austerity and throwing my shit out.
5. Ranch Dressing.
This is the Aqua Teen problem; she probably wouldn’t tell me not to do it, but having someone watch me pour Ranch Dressing on my cereal makes me feel like less of a man. I may not have Ranch Dressing Cheetos anymore but I have some semblance of self-respect back.
6. Not Recycling.
I am all for saving the environment. I support recycling, and I don’t want to waste our precious natural resources. But what I don’t give a fuck about is the number on the bottom of the tin can or whether the container is molded plastic or not. Recycling is important, just not the most important thing on the face of the earth.
7. Being a Dickhead.
I am prone to sour moods and anti-social fits that I can no longer indulge in because, well, that shit just doesn’t fly. No more grumbling and listening to heavy metal really loud (see item #2) to show the world how hardcore my not giving a fuck is. Now I have to be a grown-up and act with the maturity and compassion reflective of my age; a huge pain in the ass that I am not inclined to deal with well.
8. Old T-shirts.
Sweetheart, I saw the Rolling Stones in this shirt, that’s why I am wearing it to your birthday dinner; it’s a special occasion shirt, see. I am a metalhead through and through, and nasty concerts shirts are central to my identity. I feel lost without my Motorhead t-shirt (which, in all fairness, my wife bought me and I wore until it literally disintegrated in the wash).
9. Sock Farm.
I’m actually a pretty neat guy. I don’t like having the house messy. I clean the bathroom once a week and I wash the dishes regularly. But my greatest pleasure in life is to come home from work, camp out on the couch and take my socks and shoes off. I also like to leave the socks in the living room, in a big pile next to the couch. Why? I don’t know. Maybe I want a marker of how much (or little) I’ve worked. Every roommate I’ve ever had has bitched about this habit but my wife is the first to (mostly) break me of it.
10. In the End, Not Much.
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Comments welcome.
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Other Lists By Drew Adamek:
* Today’s Syllabus
* Shit My Dad Says
* Work Weirdos
* Things I Miss About Chicago
* 20 Albums I Wish I Had Never Bought
* Their Chicago
* Cities I’ve Slept In
* My Favorite 1980s Chicago Radio Memories
* Why Milwaukee Rules
* Why I’m Glad I Don’t Live In D.C. Anymore
* The Beer Goggle Recordings
* A List Of Reader Comments To Drew’s Lists
* Life’s Little Victories
* The Worst Jobs I’ve Ever Had
* Jobs For The Zombie Apocalypse
* Lemme Get A Bite Of That
* Lists I’ll Never Write
* Things I Miss About My Imprisoned Best Friend
Plus:
* Fan Note: Me & Metallica
Posted on March 30, 2010