Ramblings and Musings
from Evelynne
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2002-03-30 - 11:45 p.m.
On the internal soundtrack: Theme from "Hill Street Blues"
My husband is sitting next to me at the computer desk, about a foot away, and he REEKS of onion. REEKS. My god. He had a hoagie for dinner with raw onion on it. A lot, apparently. I have to SLEEP with him tonight. Ugh. He's lucky he's so cute.
So, this is the end of a lovely day of our "date weekend", as I've been calling it. Some couples in my family have "date night" once a week; we're having a "date weekend" of digusting togetherness. Boy, did I need it.
I'd noticed all week that I was really cranky and feeling rather dulled -- did I mention work has been HELL?! -- but I didn't realize how much. On Thursday night before bed, I was being obnoxious to Poindexter and we were both laughing a lot, and suddenly I realized, I haven't laughed like that in DAYS.
That's awful.
So, "date weekend" it is. This morning we wokr up around 9, then loafed around in bed, talking, reading and napping, until 1:30. Then there was a fire alarm so we sat outside for a while, then I got dolled up in some funky pants and we went exploring.
When we had the fire alarm, there were some firemen out front, guarding the fire truck or whatever. As we were passing by, a five-year-old boy in a Batman t-shirt came running up in the opposite direction. He stopped on the sidewalk about ten feet away from the firemen. Then he stood there, with a rapt, fascinated, hero-worshiping look combined with a bashful grin, looking at the firemen. I laughed out loud and so did Poindexter, and the firemen waved and laughed too. He was just TOO adorable.
Poindexter has been amazed and quite pleased to discover something unusual about the male-female couples in Philadelphia. The girl will look all spiffy and dressed up, and the guy looks like a slob. So Poindexter's all excited because, basically, he never has to dress up again no matter what his wife's got on.
He's always had a sort of hangup about looking sloppy when I'm dressed up, which makes me nuts because I don't care what he looks like. Even his mother pointed out that just because a girl is wearing a skirt doesn't mean she's "dressed up". But for whatever reason, Poindexter always felt pressure to dress up when I dress up.
No longer. Hurray!
I've got more to write, but it's time for bed. Tomorrow, I hope.
