I understand. At a deeper level than ever before.

I’ve always read that the thing men hate most is when women nag. Although it’s always seemed like something that would annoy everyone, man or woman, I am coming to understand this intense dislike of nagging. I have been working with only guys for almost two years. I have come to understand the male mind quite a bit. However, tonight my understanding reached a new level.

There are some girls on my floor who try to be helpful and it’s very nice. They’re nice and when I don’t understand something they try to explain. However, as of recent, it’s gone from helpful to painfully annoying. If I forget to hang the towel back up, instead of leaving it on the counter RIGHT UNDER THE HOOK, they find me in the common room (only three feet away) and remind me about it. I was asked about some dishes that weren’t even mine. Anything and everything can and is pointed out. I’m not a slob, I wash my own dishes and I do the best I can to be tidy. I don’t make big dinners and I don’t leave my coffee stuff out. Sometimes I forget to put away, say, the olive oil bottle when I’ve cleaned up.

They were the first to come back tonight. I’d been dreading their return. The last time I saw them, they reminded me about things that weren’t my fault. I quietly said, “Uh. … altre persone…” “Oh, scusi.” “no, bene.” She picked up the bottle from the pasta sauce that I couldn’t throw out at the time because someone else was standing in front of the trash can. So yes, that was the only thing that was mine. Scusi. I’ll clean everything.

Two days before that, one of them took me aside in the kitchen. Someone had once told me taht this cupboard with olive oil and vinegar was community. Community, I understood, meant that everyone can use it. That’s what it always meant in my apartment at home. So I’d been using this oil and vinegar and I didn’t realize that what they meant by “community” was that everyone can put their olive oil and vinegar. I profusely apologized and went out and bought mine the next day. Suddenly, there was a notice in the cupboard saying that this was NOT community. Was it really necessary to put up a notice? Could I have been one of others? I’m not sure. It’s not like I understand the notice, anyways.

They’re back. I’ve cleaned everything possible over the weekend. Things that weren’t mine. Everything was ready. They came back and had dinner with some guy– I think the boyfriend of one of them. I didn’t eat until about 20 minutes later. I didn’t want to sit right with them, but I was too afraid to sit at my computer with my food at the other table. I ate at the table a bit further down and didn’t have a cloth over the first rubber cloth. The entire time I was eating, I was debating whether to put down a second cloth. I mean, I was only going to be there for another five minutes and I was eating tomatoes and mozarella cheese….

I didn’t know if one of them would want the internet connection or not. After about five minutes of internal debate I decided that I needed to escape downstairs to the computer lab and hook up there. It no longer mattered if they wanted it or not, I didn’t want to be possibly responsible for ANYTHING that might be a problem.

That’s when it hit me. This is why men have basements and garages. To be left alone. To not have anyone nag them.

On top of that, I was watching diggnation the other day. One of the two hosts has repeated this one little story and the more I think about it, the more true it is.

“I sat my girlfriend down one day. I told her that there will be days she leaves and I will be sitting at the computer in my pajamas. She will come back and I will still be at the computer in my pajamas. And that’s just how it is.”

I now understand.

I can’t imagine being married to someone who hovers and nags me. Oh God.

I understand. I understand!

Oh god.

The song from the First Wives Club suddenly has taken on a new and significant meaning.

“You don’t own me!”

…and now I will go back to doing as I please in the quiet that is the computer lab.