Starting Fresh

Well, I am off to start the new jobby-job today. I'll be the number-2 person in the copy writing department of a marketing firm. I've worked with them before, as a freelancer, so I should be able to fit right in.

The alarm clock woke me up just fine. I think it woke the dead, too. Fortunately, the apartment below us is empty right now, and the folks next door smoke a lot of weed, so the noise shouldn't be a problem for the immediate future.

Susan made breakfast this morning (omlettes, and really good ones), and we ate out on the balcony. It's a great way to start a day, if you can. Now she's gone to work and I'm putting off doing the dishes. I've got be out the door by 8, so there's still a little time.

And that's all; there isn't any more.

Stuff

I've been away from the blog for a few days, obviously, so what's been happening?

Susan's move-in is complete, with no further "mishaps," and I have finished my last-ever freelance assignment. Yesterday, I officially accepted the jobby-job. I start next Monday. It's been a while since I had a nine-to-five.

To celebrate, Susan bought me an alarm clock. One of those old-fashioned kinds, with the bells on top, and no snooze button. If that doesn't get me up, I know someone who's foot probably will....

Anway, on to bloggy stuff.

I found an interesting blog while surfing around, called Independence Lost. It's got sort of an interesting premise; tries to be neither right nor left, and tried to talk about ways in which "We, the People" can re-assert our independence from a government that is, at best, non-responsive, and at worst, failing us badly.

Here is a very good post from there, about the city of Detroit. Read it all; it's an eye-opener.

A Nice Day

Last night's dinner was a success. She loved the salmon. I can't say how much she loved it, because this is a family-safe blog.

We spent most of the afternoon at a park near our place, with a picnic lunch and a six-pack of icy cold Rolling Rock. I'm not a big beer fan, and I'm definitely not a big cheap beer fan, but there just isn't much better than sitting under a big oak on a hot day, with your head in your girlfriend's lap, sharing an icy cold Rolling Rock.

Later, we walked over to the adjacent high school baseball fields, and fed the leftover bread to the geese that were wandering around there. At first, they tried to run away, but when they realized we had food, they started chasing us. I never really thought about it before, but Canada geese are pretty darn big.

We talked a lot. Mostly about the future. She's planning to enter an MSW program next year, and I'm going to call and accept the jobby-job on Monday. Our lease here is for two years, so who knows, maybe it'll be worth buying a house then if we're still together. She didn't like that 'if.' She said, "We'll be together, always."

I kind of like that idea. It's nice to be in love.

I'm Speechless

Well, Susan's in. She's been in since Wednesday. But we're not really settled yet.

Yesterday morning, she told me that I snore. Well, she rolls and kicks. I'm not sure that the double bed we have will be big enough.

But that's really just a small problem, and easy to deal with, compared to other issues. You see, last night, she wet the bed.

That was my first reaction, too.

So there we were, cleaning up at 2:30 in the morning. Fortunately, the apartment has a washer and dryer in it. I ran the laundry and scrubbed the mattress while she took a shower.

You know, I thought that I was ready for just about any surprise, living with someone for the first time, but that one caught me completely off guard.

Susan was pretty broken up about it. She started crying when she got out of the shower and saw the mattress. I don't think she believed me when I told her that everything would be OK, because she wanted to talk about it.

If there is anything I have learned in my time on God's green earth, it's that if the girl wants to talk about something, and she's crying, you need to listen. And let her cry on your shoulder. It doesn't matter if it's 3 o'clock in the morning, and your 24 year old girlfriend just wet the bed and wants to talk about that, you just listen.

And if she wants to go on and talk about the whole history of her bladder problems, in excruciating detail, and how she wet the bed until she was sixteen, and she's sorry that she didn't warn you before moving in but it hadn't happened in years, you have to listen to that, too.

And if she keeps going, and tells you all about the times she wet her pants in her junior and senior years of high school, and even peed in her car once last fall because she just couldn't get home from work in time, you even have to listen to that.

And you have to tell her that it really will be OK, and you're not upset, and it doesn't really change anything (because it doesn't, really; she's still Susan, just a little damper). And make sure to tell her how much you love her.

When she left for work a few minutes ago, she told me that she'll understand if I don't want her to come back. I told her that was silly. As soon as the stores open, I'm going out to buy some roses for the table, and some salmon fillets. She doesn't know it yet, but we're having her favorite honey-mustard salmon tonight. Because she's Susan, and deserves the best.

Unpacking

Susan's at work, and I am still unpacking her stuff.

I took some time today to make some updates on the blog here. I changed the template to make editing easier, and I added some links to people who's blogs I've been reading.

And I'll try to post somethings substantial soon. Don't know what, but I'm sure something will come to mind.

And I'm really thinking of taking that copywriter position; I just talked to the lady whose place I'll be filling, and she told me the actual salary that they want to offer me. It's more than I expected, plus a good health plan. I have to tell them on Monday, so I still have time to think, though.

Moving In

We're moving all of Susan's stuff in today. Oh, the joy. Honestly, I don't know where we're going to put all of her books; I'll probably have to go to Target or Meijers later tonight, and pick up some more bookshelves. And then put 'em together.

I thought I was done with that when I moved.

And I don't think that this apartment has enough closets for all of her clothes. We've been together for over two years now, and she's moving in clothes that I've never seen before. What's up with that?

Good thing she doesn't read blogs, isn't it?

Still, things are shaping up nicely. A little while ago, she made her cucumber, feta, and raspberry vinagrette sandwiches for lunch, so it seems there are definite perks to living together.

In the meantime, she's gone back to her place, to bring another load of stuff, and while she's out, I'm supposed to unpack as much of the last load as I can. You'd be amazed at how much just plain stuff will fit into a Ford Focus hatchback....