I’ve been walking around with dirty underwear in my purse. The same place where I keep my gum, my medication and, occasionally a piece of fruit for a snack.

Why is Chantel carrying dirty underwear in her purse? First because my purse is vast and it easy to lose small things in a vast area. Secondly because as adults who date and who often spend the night at another’s house; we often don’t plan ahead and bring clean underwear, or clothes, or toothpaste and such. That would be presumptuous. I don’t want to be presumptuous. In fact, I’m so damn insecure I think about breaking up with Dr. B on a regular basis. Damn skippy, If I’m not gonna walk right into his apartment some day and say one of the following things:

• I’m really tired of trying to figure out if you actually like me or not; so lets just call the time of death on this one and call it good. Bye, bye.
• I’m seriously tired of hearing about how “some other place” (Insert San Francisco) is so much better than here. Move already. Bye, bye.
  
• I’m too insecure about men leaving me to deal with the fact that you’re in a permanent state of temporary residence. My nerves have had it, Bye, bye.
• Wow, why do you even hang out with me?
  

It usually goes like this. I walk into his apartment after ringing buzzer and standing in the rain waiting for him to buzz me up. I knock on the door anyway because I’m polite like that. He asks who it is and I usually use a super-hero pseudonym and let myself in. He greets me one of the following; a mullet wig, fake mustache, pirate patch and/or, hat of some ridiculousness that he found in his closet.

I laugh.

I’ll keep him for a while longer. (that’s where the dirty underwear part come in) Suffice to say; I know not everything is perfect. And I know that I’m crazy. Most women have crazy shit like this going through their head. The trick is to not let it out. Pick you’re battles carefully because I wouldn’t want to lose touch with the “Mighty God of Melted Dark Chocolate Over Strawberry Cupcakes” because I had a crazy day.