And I wouldn't link it to you lot of deviants, so don't bother getting up your hopes of more material for "not milk" avatards.
I knew she blogged yesterday’s events while I was sleeping this morning because I know her well enough to know that she would, at the very least, have composed something. I was pretty sure that it would be posted this morning because people who have enough self documentation to be blogging in the first place don’t go off to do things they consider Events without putting down markers. So I knew that the breadcrumb trail would be there. I just pulled it up, not to see whether it was there, but to know what it had to say. She composes well, and I enjoy reading. Plus, she's the only person I know that sleeps less than I do. I get by pretty OK on 4, and feel lazy when I take 6. She hits maybe 3.
Plus, I wanted to know if my plumber’s disease was all over the internets. As I was bent over examining the innards of her non-functional dryer, I heard the distinctive click of a camera behind me, not once, but twice. I’m not particularly camera phobic, but I don’t consider that to be my good side. Upon my echoing queries from the lint-filled metal box, I discovered that she does and that since my face isn’t in the picture, my anonymity has been preserved well enough to be posted. After a brief tussle with my sense of the ridiculous, I won out and kept clammed up over the fact that I may be more recognizable from that side to several women I’ve consorted with over the years. I’ll save that quip for another day, like when I see my derriere immortalized in her blog.
I dropped her off at the airport about 5:34 or so. She had a 6:30 flight and nothing to check, so it was plenty of time. She planned a long layover so she could see her parents; they’ll pick her up at the airport, do a few things, and then send her off across the pond. It’s a short trip; I’ll see her soon. No tears at the airport. I find that sort of thing to be incredibly trite. Plus, we already scandalized people in Home Depot yesterday. The Lawn and Garden Center associates have something to talk about over their coffee for a while. No, no hawt sex, but if she hadn’t put on the brakes, there very well would have been, right there on the pine mulch. So we satisfied ourselves with a quick kiss and a good bye.
I’m in so deep right now that I already know that it’s terminal and there’s no cure. I, the ever-bachelor, am on the verge of extinction. It’s just a matter of time and timing. Sooner or later there’s a Honeymoon in Vegas coming. Somebody shoot me while I’m still happy about it. That’s all I ask.