In answer to all the “where are you?” emails, I took a few months off to situate myself in a new home with my fiancée (Sheesh, I hate that word).

When one decides to delve into cohabitation with a lover after a few years of dating and living in separate domiciles, there will inevitably be culture shock. No matter how much you think you know the other person, you are on the wrong end of the stupid stick.

For instance, my fiancée likes a lot of pillows on the bed. I have no idea what a woman’s fascination is with tons of cloth-covered polyfill, but I have to say it borders on psychosis.

First of all, I have never been a big fan of foam pillows because they make my head bounce around like a superball on concrete, which isn’t very conducive for a restful night’s sleep. Because of all of the bouncing around during the night, I wake up with a huge headache. Once, I even got a concussion. Try explaining THAT to a doctor.

I like to sleep with one or two down pillows, with my head up near the headboard—a nearly impossible feat with a bed full of pillows. During the night I find myself sliding down the mattress and waking up with my feet sticking out of the covers at the other end of the bed. In my groggy, middle-of-the-night-where-the-hell-am-I state, I could have sworn I saw Kathy Bates standing over me ready to smash my ankles with a hammer and a two-by-four.

Another thing I had to get used to is the fact that my woman doesn’t like it when I throw out the plates and flatware after I eat. Apparently, there is something called a “dishwasher” and I should learn how to use it. She is so sarcastic sometimes. Like I don’t know what a dishwasher is. Sheesh, I had one growing up; I just called her “Ma.”

On the flip side of the coin, there are wonderful things about blending our lives. Like, I am now the proud owner of “The Magic Cupboard.” I write down what I want to eat, like Frosted Flakes or Nilla Wafers, on the refrigerator dry-erase board and a couple of days later the items magically appear in the cupboard. This alone is worth the price of nuptial admission.

This cohabitation thing will certainly take some time getting used to—like her freaking snoring, for instance—but it is a welcome challenge to figure out how to cope and compromise. It’s always good to write things down. It helps you to get a clearer picture of the harsh reality of living together, so you’re not off in some fantasy world thinking that things will iron themselves out; actually seeing your problems in writing will help you make more informed, rational decisions.

The next thing on my list is I have to figure out is how to make The Magic Cupboard get rid of all those damn pillows.