Resolution High

Hello, baby.  I’ve missed you.

You feel so good under my fingertips.  It’s like we haven’t even been apart a day, let alone four weeks.

My hands just know where to touch you.  Instinctively.  I don’t even need to look.  But we both know it’s better with the lights out, anyway.

Don’t ever leave me again, do you hear?

♦- ♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦

I’m so happy.  My computer is back.  No more hunching over DH’s spare machine in the dark recesses of the basement, furtively checking my email like a back-alley hooker.  No, I’m on the upper level now, folks.  My office is done.  (Mostly.)  My life is gradually re-focusing and un-chaos-ing.  Ahhh.  This is almost as good as a massage sex.

I’m enjoying my first cup of coffee in the new digs, and it is marvelous.  I have a beautiful new desk, a freshly scrubbed set of peripherals, and a nice paint job on the walls.  And don’t forget the curtains.  Beautiful, lovely, hand made curtains.  Even though my back’s to them, they still make me smile.

This room is so clean you can smell it.  It smells like a mixture of paint, varnish, and Murphy’s Oil soap, but all in a good way.  My keyboard isn’t sticky.  Neither is the floor under my feet.  My monitor is completely free of fingerprints.   This is fabulous.

 Now I just have to move all my crap vital stuff back in.

Wonder how long the honeymoon will last?  It doesn’t matter, really.  Today is incredible enough.

 

 

 

 

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