(From last weekend)
Monday morning and I feel a sense of relief. The weekend can be safely shelved. Boyfriend was very sweet and considerate over the whole weekend and anticipated a lot of my needs before I could articulate them, which made it easier on me. He doesn’t always know the right thing to do if he is letting his brain use itself, but he pretty much always gets it right if he listens to his instincts.
I haven’t slept at his place for a long time but we did because he had his work CorpsePatrol Party on Saturday night and it was just around the corner. I haven’t always managed to fit in with his SES mates but this night was okay. It helped that we arrived about 3 hours after the party started and people were socially lubricated (this is not a polite euphanism for drunk; they were just a little more expansive than normal). It was quite touching to see the way that they interacted as team members and it brought home to me just how much society runs on the efforts of unacknowledged volunteers. They also gave a speech, saying how much the partners of the SESmembers put up with, and I thought that was a nice touch.
Then back to BF’s place. I had dropped in earlier, after work, to get clean and glammed up as much as I do it, and I’d expressed a little horror as to the state of BF’s place. He does have some mitigating circumstances, given that he was working away for about ten days and then spent subsequent down time with me, but I have to say, honestly, if I’d seen his place like this when I first met him, there wouldn’t have been a second date. (Yes, I did go back to his place that first night, overriding his reluctance, and letting him tidy for five minutes first, but it was dark, he’d surface cleaned the room we were in, and making out was more important than hygiene).
This time around it seemed worse. He was aware of the state of the place and was, to give him his due, embarrassed about it. I reassurred him that it was okay (JUST THIS ONE TIME, GIVEN THE WORKING AWAY, GET OUT OF JAIL FREE CARD); and added that as long as there weren’t bugs in the bed, I could tiptoe through the rest. Can you see the foreshadowing here?
The bed sheets he’d changed recently and had only slept in them one night, given that we spend most of our nighttimes together. I was happy to curl up there with a book, while he addressed some urgent cleaning issues.
I was happy right up until I rolled over in bed, rolled back, felt a pricking sensation on my thigh and looked down to see a curled up bug resting there. It was dead. It obviouslyhad been dead for a while but that didn’t stop me screaming loudly. (From outrage, not fear. Hell, I’ve eaten numerous dead insects in my time).
I swear that if I hadn’t seceded my domicile to a daughter and her potentially staying the night boyfriend, I would have left right then.