soliloqueer

Have I mentioned lately just how much Howie rocks?

As I said in the previous entry, he came over last night to help me unpack, but of course wanted the grand tour first.

It took all of about a minute and a half to show him the living room, slash dining room, slash kitchen area. Then I took him into the bedroom where I showed him the bathroom and the surprisingly large walk-in closet.

“Where’s your bed?” He asked.

I then explained, as I did for you nice people, that the higher priority was on getting the Internet connected and buying a bed was at the top of the list of things that still needed to get done. This would be my weekend project.

“Ugh, come on,” he said as he led me out of the apartment.

An hour later, I was signing the delivery form for my new bed, which Howie bought me as a housewarming gift. He even paid extra so it would be delivered in time for me to sleep on it last night.

I firmly believe that a comfortable bed is the most important thing a person can own. Think about it, if you don’t get a good night sleep, then there’s a pretty good chance the next day is going to be completely shot.

After the mattress store, he took me out to dinner (having also noticed that there wasn’t much in my refrigerator) at, in my humble opinion, one of the best Italian restaurants in the Triangle, Babymoon Cafe.

Babymoon is awesome for two reasons. 1) They serve really good food at very reasonable prices. 2) Extremely cute waiters.

We had dinner and discussed my next move.

For those of you who’ve been with me for a while, then you know how much change has happened in my little world in the course of the last five years, and if I’ve learned anything through it all, it’s that nothing can be planned and expectation is an exercise in disappointment.

Cynical? Me?

So I think I’m just going to roll with the punches for a bit.

We finished up, swung by Bed, Bath & Beyond for sheets, then went back to my apartment where we waited for my new bed to arrive.

Eventually it did and after we got it all put together, Howie climbed in with me and we cuddled for a while before he had to leave.

Then, much later last night, I woke up thinking about my statement in the restaurant about rolling with the punches for a while. Am I destined to become one of those people who lives and dies by their alarm clock?

God, I hope not.

This entry was posted on Saturday, March 22nd, 2008 at 7:39 am and is filed under Journal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.