March 17, 2004
Naughty Naughty
Mike nudged me awake with kisses and hips and coarse-haired limbs. Our eyes are so bleary in the morning we are only half-seeing eachother, but I know, for me, what I see is good.
I watched him dress and gaped at the snow. It's March. I'm on Spring Break. This. Is. Not. Happening.
It hasn't frozen over, though, and Spartacus was being quite agreeable on the roads, so I won't complain too much.
I do feel somewhat like an Eskimo, though. It's difficult to persuade oneself out of bed when the furnace has decided to take a shit, and there is no heat in the house. Nevermind. When it's the two of us, curled up, flannel blankets and the space heater, who needs to get out of bed?
I didn't go to Florida or drinking or breast-flashing. I went to my boyfriend's house and did laundry and read books and ate chocolate.
And maybe a little bit of breast-flashing.
astera at 12:29 a.m.