(I wrote the body of this post yesterday, and then didn’t get around to publishing it until this morning. That’s why it’s in present tense even though it’s past.)
I woke up sad this morning. It was early, and instead of hitting the snooze button, I went and laid in the bathtub and read about proper eyebrow maintenance and whether or not antioxidants are all they’re cracked up to be (they are, apparently).
Done soaking (or rather, fed up with eyebrows and antioxidants), I dried myself and went back to lay in bed. Swisher was stirring, and when he woke up, I promptly burst into tears. I understand that it’s quite horrifying to wake up to your significant other sobbing, but he handled it beautifully. He wrapped me in the kind of full body hug that says “I love you but I will do anything to make you stop crying right now because I have no idea why you’re crying and this is scary.” Then he asked me if I’m going to cry through our whole (wholly hypothetical, of course) wedding ceremony. And then he proceeded to imitate it. I started giggling when he broke into fake sobs at “I now pronounce you…”
“I’m not coming back down to Denver tonight if you’re going to be a grump. I’ll hang out with my 22-year old roommates instead,” he told me before we left. (It was an empty threat. He will come back to Denver after class tonight. And I won’t be grumpy, promise.)
I’m making him chicken salad tonight. I love chicken salad; it’s one of the best things on this planet, and it’s one of the few things that I can make consistently. I want to surprise him and have everything ready when he gets to my house. Keep your fingers crossed that he likes it.
This post, over at “Enjoying the Small Things” was also tear-inducing. This is my city. I love that she understands what it feels like to be there. I am a city-girl, at heart, and I would give anything to be laying on the beach staring at Lake Michigan right now. When I lived downtown, sometimes I would just wander through downtown. I’d wander for hours. I love the anonymity that you feel when you’re walking down a street, surrounded by tall buildings and people who don’t care who you are. There are glances exchanged, pleasantries, but mostly, you are no one, you are a speck. It’s humbling and empowering at the same time. You belong entirely to yourself.
I hope you’re all having wonderful Fridays! Mine seems to be getting better.