After a year and a half of cohabitation, I can say that there are only a handful of, "boundaries," that remain. I will certainly sneak in for a quick pee while my boyfriend is in the shower, and will lounge around in various states of undress. No biggie. But I can definitely rattle off a few things that I'd be loathe to do in front of him, and they include:
- The opposite of peeing. And I don't mean drinking.
- Exercising. For some reason, I can't work out while he's in the room. I've been able to do so with former roommates and other boyfriends, but not with him. Especially not yoga. It could be the fact that I know he'll say something like, "You're going to get stuck like that," or, "Do they call that pose the flailing goddess? If so, you're doing it right." Under normal circumstances, I'd find those comments both hilarious and timely. Not so much when I'm channeling a pretzel, and trying to be at peace.
- Vocal warm-ups. I'm a singer, by trade. Well, not really by trade, but I did go to school for it, which makes me think it should be my trade. Anyway, warming up your voice is probably the least attractive preview of your abilities you could possibly come up with. Arpeggios, trills, whooping, lip buzzing, mouth stretching, these are things that should be reserved for the bedroom.
- Picking out an outfit. When I'm figuring out what to wear it's like I'm in some sort of zone where my peripheral vision shuts down. I can't talk or think about anything other than finding that one shirt. Yesterday my boyfriend joined me in the bedroom while I rifled through clothes in an attempt to change so we could go get dirty martinis. He barely even spoke, but it still put me on the verge of a nervous breakdown. My inner voice was screaming, "I just need to concentrate!!!!"
- "Personal" grooming. I don't think I need to explain this one.