Time to get back to work, dammit. I am not ready. I am never ready.
Last night superfoo had her birthday dinner and I was pleased and grateful to be among the celebrants. We were only missing marri . I had (and still have) a cold that's making me heavy and uncomfortable, but was much cheered by the company. At one point, though, as I watched Sup[erfoo talking with animation about something, I felt this stab of sadness in anticipation of her departure one day for other climes. How I will miss you, girl!
And I stammered like an Edwardian schoolgirl when asked about the beau. What has happened to me?
When I came home, he was up, though it was 3AM in Brazil, so we watch Breakfast at Tiffany's together on the phone and then, because I was sick, I got into bed with the phone and he said sweet things to me (things like "caring for you is part of who I am now" and more), and read me poetry (Yeats and Thomas) until I started to drift off. He has a wonderful voice. Then he read me the book I gave him for Christmas, The Giving Tree, as the rain pattered the window, and I drifted off to sleep. It was cozy.
Meetings today--cranky and ill-infomed people, no doubt. Oh well, with all the sweetness in my life lately, I need some sour to balance it out! Breakfast now, and then out into the pouring rain.