The Moving-In-Together Survival Guide

Now, when you come home from work, it takes a moment to remember that this is your place, with its jasmine potpourri and Restoration Hardware area rugs. Now the towels match. Now your CDs—Outkast, Led Zeppelin, and Britney Spears (it's all right, we all have one)—share space with Tori Amos, Ani DiFranco, and the rest of the Lilith Fair Powder Puff Football Team. Now everything is put away in its "proper" place. Her photo albums—under the coffee table. Her clothes—in the bedroom closet, and the hallway closet. Your clothes—in whatever slim closet space remains, and under the bed. Your pictures—in a shoe box under your clothes.

Now your fridge is clean. That half-empty case of Bud has been replaced with a bottle of Sauvignon blanc, and the "crisper" drawer actually has fresh vegetables in it. Now you know what a "duvet cover" is.

Now the clock is ticking … Now the walls seem closer, the air feels thinner ...

But just as you are about to snap, she saunters past the foot of the bed, wearing nothing but your old "Notre Dame Sucks" T-shirt. You think of your previous living arrangements and smile as you remember the time your roommate pissed on the couch. As you lure the other half of the collective you under the 400-thread-count sheets, you think: Now really isn't so bad. Now is as good a time as any.