9.29.2004
- I went home last night, a-quiver with excitement over my new toy (this journal). After my normal long, boring 11pm drive, I bounced up to the house, only to find him asleep, curled up on the bare mattress, sheets and pillows and blankets carelessly tossed onto my side of the bed.
I sighed, took a quick shower, and proceeded to organize the bed to my liking, covering him gently, smiling at the mumbled "luv you", then shoving all the rest too the floor before curling up in my oldest, rattiest, most comfortable blanket. I wrapped myself around my body pillow, and settled in for a good nights sleep. Then I waited. And waited. Turned over. Waited some more. Cuddled with him. Waited some more. Moved away again. Waited some more. Let him turn over and cuddle with me. Told him that yes, I missed him, and would try to be home earlier tomorrow. Waited some more. Rolled over, out from underneath his arm. Waited some more. Around 3am, I gave up, got up, and drank some milk. Chocolate milk, of course. Miraculously, it worked. When the alarm clock went off at 6am, I actually woke up, mouth full of sour milk taste. Sleep is so underrated!