Midnight calls and rainy days

Forgive me if I don't make any sense. Excuse me if I skip from one subject to another. You see, I am a bit of kilter these days. I have no good excuse except that my routines have been interupted and I am wandering around a bit lost as a result.

It all began when Cynical announced taking a hiatus (or permanent break, whichever he lands on) from his evening job. That's a good thing, something I secretly hope for each night as I do a ritualistic dance to the money gods.

Last night was our first official evening as a real couple, you know, with both of us in the house, eating dinner together and even having a conversation that didn't involve synchronizing schedules, trading "to do" lists and discussing whether or not the bread was still good and why we have three loaves.

I must admit that it was wonderful. I don't mind time alone. Actually I am really good at being alone, but darnit, I like having him around.

So, last night we dined on home-cooked food as opposed to cheese and crackers or a bowl of cereal. We even watched some television together and I suspect he actually did some household chores too. I think I am gonna like this.

I drifted off dreaming of his famous lasagna, mowed yards, and chit-chatting about fall television premiers and bickering over the remote. I was sound asleep when the phone rang. I assumed it was work. I assumed it was one of Cynical's clients. It was instead my brother. I glanced at the clock, attempting to focus on the numbers to determine whether or not this was an emergency call or just someone wanting to talk. Any call after midnight is bad news. I was off the hook, it was only 11:30.

I have a knack for being able to convince callers that I wasn't asleep, they didn't interupt my rest and that I am up and ready to talk. It's a curse more than a gift. I think that last night I was too convincing because we talked for nearly an hour.

I have spent most of my morning trying to remember exactly what we talked about, whether or not I committed to do anything and if I was supposed to call him back during normal business hours. I hope I didn't sign-on to test-taste his home-brewed beer, coach a soccer team or pressure wash anything.

Tonight promises leftovers, a discussion about not using the throw pillows as a dinner tray and hoping this incessant rain hasn't flooded our basement. Hold onto your hats, this is gonna be exciting.