Hubbie was away this weekend, off on a retreat of burly men who all pretended it was GREAT FUN to live in cabins in the woods while the temperatures are in the low 40s. "Do they have indoor plumbing?" I asked when he called. "They do," he said, "...but it's in another building." For the fourteen-millionth time in my life, I'm glad I'm not a boy :)
In Steve's absence, THAT DOG stepped up to the responsibility plate. Both nights Steve was gone, Kylie got up off of the couch at precisely 10pm, walked over to the door leading to the bedroom, and glared at me as if to say, "Someone has to be in charge here, and we both know it can't be you." Then she herded me from one room to the other until I went to bed, ensuring I didn't dawdle. This is the most well-rested I've been in months.
Last night I watched the replay of the final episode of the Gilmore Girls. Rory said goodbye to Lane, and I cried. Rory and Loralei had a touching moment, and I cried. Luke and Loralei finally kissed, and I cried. By the end of the show, I wasn't cold anymore. I was puffy, but not cold. I went to bed feeling like I did on my last night at college, knowing that in some way, things would never be the same.
Thank God for whoever invented Kleenex.