Girlie shit is revolting

Blogs have been few and far between lately, on account of the fact that I have eaten out 10 times in the last 14 days in addition to a couple of book clubs,a dentist appointment, physiotherapy, getting drunk and lost downtown, trying to train for Boston, maintaining familial connections and being social. 
I love how everything seems to happen at once.
I am now fat, slightly injured, and totally exhausted (but I got a massive thumbs up for leading tonight's book club discussion of "The Imperfectionists").
Aside from all of that?  Where to begin, where to begin.
And so wraps up my first month of cohabitation redux.  Successful?  Well, my shit hasn't been thrown over the balcony and into the alley - but it was close.  Living together has been good and bad.  The good is that I am way less of a shit heel than  I was a decade ago.  When I was in my mid twenties everything had to be split down the middle.  If I made dinner?  Michael had to make lunches.  If I cleaned the apartment?  Michael had to do laundry.  That's a good concept if everything else in your life is equal, but at that time it wasn't: Michael worked huge hours, got home late and I would be on him like a dirty shirt.  A dirty shirt that nagged and cajoled.  Who wants to come home to that?
Now I am happy to shop and cook and clean as my four day work week and zero overtime life allows.  I like helping Michael out as much as he enjoys doing things that make my life easier.  Yes.  Welcome to your Carlsberg years.
The bad bit is that, after living on my own for three years, reintegration into common law life has had some hiccups.  I have to be more cognisant of my actions and how they impact Michael.  A great example would be me totally losing my mind on Tuesday night when Michael came home later than I anticipated and I had PMS and morphed into Glenn Close during her "I like to boil bunnies" phase.  I need to check that shit.
But we are persevering and we are having some good times and some downtime and some tough times.  Sometimes I think about people that were married for years and years who then go through these acrimonious divorces and I wonder: how did they come to hate each other so much.  And I think that there are times when Michael and I are very close to strangling one another, but those feelings of utter despair and frustration are still less than the overall feeling of love, appreciation and commitment that we have for one another.
Feeling queasy yet?  Christ knows I am.
At any rate, the quest for the perfect engagement ring set continues.  Not because I covet materialistic things, but because it's become a challenge for me aesthetically.
Dude: I am the girl that selects very specific water glasses out of the cupboard because I like the way they look.  I can't even drink my de-alcoholized wine out of a juice glass: instead I carted my pleasing wine glasses down from my pad.  I don't eat my sushi out of the Styrofoam container: I arrange it nicely on the plate - even though I'm eating alone.
So.
How you like these apples?