She's asleep in the bedroom.
We did laundry together earlier today, so she's resting on fresh sheets, huddled under clean blankets and laying her head on born-again pillow cases.
The dog, of course, took her side -- he now rests comfortably where I would normally be…
Here I am, sprawled out on the small, uncomfortable couch, sulking and restless -- in one hand the clicker and in the other hand my balls.
I am out here in the living room because we had a fight; we don't have fights often, but when we do…
I can't sleep. It's about 3 a.m. and I am watching an infomercial in Spanish for The Magic Bullet -- which is even more entertaining than the English version, even though I have no idea what they are saying.
The fight still lingers in my brain, haunting my every thought… Finally, after hours of stewing on it, I admit I was wrong. I admit it was my fault. Now that I admit it to myself…
I have to figure out how to admit it to her -- and then go about making it up to her…
Maybe next there will be an infomercial in Spanish for Snuggies…
