Sunday, January 27, 2019
Home Alone
Ian's in New York this weekend visiting a friend, so I've been on my own with our incontinent beagle for the past few days. I genuinely don't mind having some along time, even if I do end up talking to myself after the first day or so. It's nice to have the bed to myself for a little while, since we're both tall and too attached to our bed frame to upgrade to a king. And there is a certain weird little thrill in being totally in charge of what is on the TV (or not) and what and when I eat, not that Ian somehow exercises tight control over those issues when he's around. But it's also definitely weird not to have someone to consult on crucial issues like which shirt I wear to the gym and whether my response to that email came across snippy. And there's no one here to listen to my various delightful remarks on everything from the Garage Sale Mystery movie series to the dog's bowel movements. So it's definitely a good thing that Ian is getting home tonight. I've even offered to pick him up at the airport, which is of course everyone's least favorite thing to do ever. Aside from eating nails. That's probably worse.
Ian's in New York this weekend visiting a friend, so I've been on my own with our incontinent beagle for the past few days. I genuinely don't mind having some along time, even if I do end up talking to myself after the first day or so. It's nice to have the bed to myself for a little while, since we're both tall and too attached to our bed frame to upgrade to a king. And there is a certain weird little thrill in being totally in charge of what is on the TV (or not) and what and when I eat, not that Ian somehow exercises tight control over those issues when he's around. But it's also definitely weird not to have someone to consult on crucial issues like which shirt I wear to the gym and whether my response to that email came across snippy. And there's no one here to listen to my various delightful remarks on everything from the Garage Sale Mystery movie series to the dog's bowel movements. So it's definitely a good thing that Ian is getting home tonight. I've even offered to pick him up at the airport, which is of course everyone's least favorite thing to do ever. Aside from eating nails. That's probably worse.
