March 13, 2003
Nesting
There's something about every night that just makes me want to spend it with him.
Yesterday, we made getting up last three hours past its usual schedule. Mike blatantly refused to get out of bed, curling up and watching Dexter's Laboratory while I made goetta, eggs, and coffee. Cooking for Mike is always unsettling, as he usually does most of the cooking, as he is, by present trade, a cook. At any rate. We had breakfast in bed. We watched more cartoons. We stared languidly at the grey light that came in through the closed blinds, resolved to fight the day.
That is, until Mike had his appointment at the credit union to discuss getting a mortgage. At that point, we didn't have much choice.
Perhaps there is something about his bed, then, and nothing to do with the fact that he is in it?
He tells me he always notes my absence when he lays down to sleep.
Somehow it is already Thursday. I woke up this morning in pure defiance of it, finally checking the calender and the unsure reference of my brother who was still half-asleep on the couch. Where did Spring Break go so quickly? It is no matter, really, as there are pressing matters that do not involve me sitting around in various abodes in various states of pajamas. I need a job. But a real one.
I am going to see about getting a single in one of the dorms next year. Miserable living though that might be, I cannot afford to move out. I cannot bear to live with my father, fickle as he has become.
I want to wear a skirt today but Southwestern Ohio has decided to rain. What. A. Surprise.
astera at 10:19 a.m.