It's 6a.m.

It's 6a.m. and I've spent the better part of a week waiting for the weekend to come, waiting for the morning when I can sleep in with MyFella laying next to me. Instead, I'm wide awake and he's in the front bedroom. My part? Oh, going to bed drunk does that to me. His part? Jamie wakes up and tends to stay up, talking to himself and playing with the laundry in his overnight bag, unless someone lays down next to him.

But at least we're here together. And at least we had fun tonight with an "old style" gathering of friends at "our place." It was just like back in the day, when we were young and single and had (we thought) more money than we knew what to do with. When we could just order "another" and then do it again. When we closed the place down. (I left early when Jamie got tired, some body else might have closed the place down. Red's jeep is still parked outside where it was when she came by here.)