I woke up, feeling refreshed, so I could really savor and enjoy my two cups of coffee, rather than snort it through every orifice in an effort to quell Bruce Banner . I also had some really excellent whole wheat toast with peanut butter, banana, and honey on it for breakfast. This alone could have qualified yesterday as "good", but it actually got better.
Lunchtime rolled around, but I was actually being so goddamned productive for once that I was having trouble dragging myself away from the desk to fix something. Usually on days like this I end up freaking out and eating a jar of olives and some moldy cheese at 3:45 because I am crazy delirious from the hunger. It seems I have a wee blood sugar problem.
Anyway, just as I'm realizing that I'm pretty hungry, C shows up at my desk with a turkey taco salad and a diet Cherry Coke! Hell! Yes! I swear, I would take food over an engagement ring any day. I mean, I'm not much of a jewelry person, and taco salads are just so good.
While I was eating my lunch, I heard the sweet, sweet sounds of someone else doing the dishes comeing from the kitchen. Yes.
After lunch, C and I went and had our "Affidavit of Domestic Partnership" noterized so that he can hop onto my incredibly kickass health insurance. I love that I work for such a liberal company. The woman at the bank was a little distrubed by the whole thing.
Bank Lady (BL): "You mean, you aren't married?"
Me: "Um, nope."
BL: "And they will pay for his health insurance anyway?"
Me: "Well, because we've lived together so long, we are considered Domestic Partners."
BL: "Whaaaaa? Why would they do that?"
Me: "WELL, there are people out there that either can't get married, because they are gay, or don't want to get married, because they see little need to. We fall in the latter category in case you couldn't tell. Could you just do the G-D stampy thing so I can continue having my great day?"
OK, so that wasn't exactly how it went, but you get the idea.
After this I did work errands, and went and visited my employees. I locked my keys in the car for the second time in my whole life. Even this didn't ruin it, although it did really make me want a cold alcoholic beverage.
I got home just as C was putting the finishing touches on dinner. Pasta with garlic sauce, asparagus, mushrooms, tomatoes, and chunks of fresh mozzarella! So that's twice in one day he kicked my ass.
The topper came that evening. I couldn't find the Owenator, after checking all of his usual haunts (my knitting basket, the filing cabinet drawer, in my shoes, in the recycling, etc.). Busta Rhymes was following me all over the house, kind of wimpering and acting stranger than usual. Finally I looked at him and said, "Buster! Where's Owen? Find Owen!"
C is, of course, laughing and making fun of me at this point, telling me that Buster is not, in fact, Lassie.
But THEN, Buster ran to the front door and was wining and barking. I open the door, and there is the tiny kitten! Somehow he got out there and Buster rescued him! GOOD DOG.
OK, I really have to get back to work now. So incredibly busy. Busy, busy, busy.