It’s half-past ten and I’m on the couch with some crime show or another acting as background noise and your periodic dramatic staccato signalling when to get excited.  I’m considering what I want to lull me asleep and whether or not I’m okay with growing so tired it takes an enormous amount of effort to drag my feet to my bedroom.

I’m thinking a lot about the universe and how I’ve come to learn that it is often more effective waiting for an answer to present itself to you rather than search endlessly. 

I get a message that my guitar has shipped.  And I grow even more anxious.  But then I think about the way my night ended.  It was so unexpected, but reminiscent of who we are at the core of our relationship.  And even though it’s been so long, the adventure of it is alluring.

Tomorrow, I’ll be starting slow and keeping an eye on the second hand so that the minutes crawl.  It will take some time to adjust back to my work schedule.  I may actually need a drawer at my fiance’s place so that I can stay over and not have go home before going to the office.  I wonder what she’ll say about that.