It’s been something of a trying time adjusting, and by “trying” I don’t mean to indicate that she snores like a buzz saw during the height of logging season or anything…not that I’d even dare to admit that if she did! No, in this instance we’re talking “trying” more along the lines of trying to find out where in the heck all of my closet space has gone … all you not-so-single men in the audience know what I’m talking about…

It comes out of nowhere, like a soccer Mom driving the family hummer on the way to pick-up little Jenny from archery practice before heading off to Johnny’s Bassoon recital, starting off small with a hanger here or maybe a change of pants there, but slowly it grows one blouse at a time until you accidentally come out one unusually groggy morning wearing a blouse yourself instead of the beige polo shirt that you’d originally ventured into the walk-in for in the first place! Boy, was that an awkward day at the office – I’m just glad that at least I was awake enough to grab the skirt to match…

And don’t get me wrong, I certainly wouldn’t want it any other way, but it’s rough for a guy to give up the personal space that he’s become so attached to, especially when the amount of space set aside for his clothing to occupy goes from, say five feet of closet rod space to roughly 4 centimeters of closet rod space – and please forgive my use of metric, but I just couldn’t think of the standard equivalent that ranks in as smaller than inches! Granted, it does make choosing what to wear in the morning infinitely easier, assuming you can find your own clothes as not so elegantly depicted in the tabloid above, but for the guy who’s indecisive to begin with, some might even suggest it to be a godsend that he’s only got to choose from two shirts in the morning when it’s time to get ready for work. Hint: go with the one that doesn’t have the huge pizza stain down the front – work is no place to show your undying love for the extra-marinara stuffed-crust special.

Now it’s taken me some time to adjust to giving up my coveted closet space to the fairer sex, but let me tell you guys, the secret lies in learning to live like a monk. Knowing that the closet space is going to be more limited than Lindsay Lohan’s chances of passing a breathalyzer test, being at one with your fashion sense and establishing a compact wardrobe is essential to your survival. I think you’ll find the robes themselves to be a lot more fashionable than you think in this day and age, and as a bonus, they’re pretty cheap, too, which helps because with a live-in girlfriend, you’re going to be purchasing hangers at least on a weekly basis, just to keep up with her normal shopping routines. I’d actually suggest getting in contact with a bulk distributor that sells hangers to companies like Wal-Mart and The GAP to see if it’s possible to buy the things by the case, but we’ll have to talk about that some other time…

It’s not going to be easy, guys – you’re facing a task that makes fashion designers giggle like schoolgirls and most men between the ages of two and one hundred and twenty-nine cringe like their favorite team just lost the World Series. The amount of clothing that your woman acquires is exponential to the amount of space available…in the world – that’s just the law of the jungle and there’s nothing short of losing it all in a mysterious, untraceable house fire that we can do about it. Your best bet is to throw up a white flag as soon as possible, then retreat out to the garage where you’ll spend the next several weeks building a new closet in hopes of actually being able to keep some of your own clothing in it. You won’t, but in the end that’s what love is all about – giving up every available inch of storage space in your house so that your “Honey Bumpkin” can get another little black dress that she’s probably only going to wear once.

You’d better get to work, though – lord knows she’s going to want the matching heels, too, and that last shoe rack that you tried to build didn’t exactly turn out, well, usable. Good luck…