Apologize For Falling Out Of Love With Your Boyfriend Day!

“Sorry,” tell him. “Sorry I’ve grown.”

He’ll say he appreciates the apology, but it doesn’t make up for anything.

“I just wasn’t thinking,” explain. “For a long while there I was in love with you. Then I had a bunch of life experiences and learned new insights and new possibilities for who I can be. I knew letting all that stuff happen would change me, but I never thought it would make me fall out of love with you.”

Your boyfriend will tell you should have considered it. You should have at least worried about how changing and growing as a person might affect your ability to stay in love with him.

“You’re right,” tell him. “I was inconsiderate. Especially when my father died and I let my grief and my subsequent maturation into an adult with a deceased parent get the better of me. I wasn’t thinking about how those emotional developments would make me grow bored with what you and I shared.”

Your boyfriend will pace the room in front of you. He’ll look like he’s jumping out of his skin. He’ll ask how he can be sure you won’t do this again.

“Well I really don’t think you have to worry about it,” tell him. “I doubt I’m going to fall back in love with you or anything.”

“You better not!” your boyfriend will shout.

Make him say he’s sorry for raising his voice to you. If he says he isn’t sorry, tell him you’ll devote the rest of your life to making sure he’s sorry.

Happy Apologize For Falling Out Of Love With Your Boyfriend Day!

In His Car Day!

Get in his car and let him drive you to his current girlfriend’s house. “That’s where she lives,” he says. “More rooms than anyone would know what to do with.”

You note that it doesn’t look like anything could ever go wrong in there. He confirms that nothing ever does.

“The promise of a girl who grew up in a house like that,” you say. “I can see why you’re with her.”

He says, “Then why at this moment do I want nothing more than to speed away, leave that house and this whole town, and earn a living driving across the country robbing small-town general stores with you.”

Kiss him and he’ll step on the gas. He’s already made his choice. He’d rather live on the road making love at 70 mph with you than die safe and warm in the biggest house you’ve ever seen. Kiss him and you’ll be on a highway putting every memory over your eastern shoulder. Kiss him and he’s yours.

“But I want to be a veterinarian,” you say. “I love animals.”

He shrugs and says, “Suit yourself.” Then he drives you to a corner where you can catch your bus.

Twenty years from now when you’re treating a sick cat for fur balls you’ll remember the choice he gave you. You’ll Google him and discover he’s fat and sells ad space on roadside billboards.

“You made it to the highway,” you’ll whisper at your computer screen, before returning to the cat sitting on your examination table waiting for his dropper full of medicine.

Happy In His Car Day!

Quit Putting Off The Important Stuff Day!

You’ve been sitting on the couch all day long watching Netflix and dicking around on the internet knowing full well you have to get out into the world and bury your roommate’s dead body in a shallow grave before dawn (you two had a fight over the fact that you’ve been using his conditioner and things got out of hand so you stabbed him to death). This is always the way. Every time you have a big project you end up putting it off until the very last minute, glueing your eyes to whatever screens will accept them, and then you find yourself scrambling to find a store open in the middle of the night that will sell you some lime and a shovel. Oh Christ what are you doing now? You’re calling Jeff? Don’t call Jeff.

“Hey Jeff can I borrow your truck? Zipcar only has compacts.”

Of course he’s going to say no, at least until you lay a guilt trip on him. Why didn’t you just reserve the Zipcar pickup or SUV as soon as you killed your roommate? And now you’re going to try and rope him into helping you dig the grave too, aren’t you?

“I’ll pay you forty bucks. I just gotta get Brad into the ground. Kind of a last minute deal.”

This is how terrible you are at time management. You think you saved yourself some time getting Jeff to help dig but now that Jeff’s an accessory you have to dig two graves, and bury him in the second after you hit him in the head with your shovel.

“Yeah but I get to keep his truck so free truck.”

Okay fine that’s a good point.

Happy Quit Putting Off The Important Stuff Day!

Wedding Vow Day!

You and Larry were always best friends. Ever since college, when you two would stay up all night long watching bad movies together. Or when you’d run to each other for a shoulder to cry on after a bad breakup, or a sympathetic ear after a terrible date.

After college you moved in together and spent a couple years living as roommates, but you were such close friends you might as well have been an old married couple. Each of you felt like it might be impossible to find someone you enjoyed being with as much as each other, and so one night many years ago you made a vow.

“If neither of us finds someone before we’re 35, we’ll marry each other,” Larry said. He even got down on one knee when he said it.

“35?” you said. “Okay, that’s about when I’ll have given up the search. Deal!”

You consummated the vow by microwaving some popcorn and sitting down together to watch a DVD of Lost Season 2.

For a while there, it seemed like you two might end up honoring that vow you made, until three years ago when you met Stephen, who was an usher at your sister’s wedding.

You fell for Stephen almost instantly, and you knew you’d fallen for him based on the one true test of whether you love someone or not: you couldn’t wait to introduce him to Larry.

It wasn’t long before you moved out of your apartment with Larry and into one with Stephen, and after a couple more whirlwind years Stephen got down on one knee and asked you to join him in a for-real marriage vow. The date was set for this weekend, when you will be exactly 34 years and four months old.

“Just under the wire,” you told Larry. “Guess you won’t have to marry me after all!”

“Guess not,” Larry said. “Looks like Stephen’s going to beat me to it.”

It did look like that. Until yesterday, when Stephen’s body was found floating in the river. His head had been bludgeoned, his wallet gone. Appeared to be a mugging gone too far.

You ran to the only person you’d ever run to for comfort at such a horrible time.

“How! How could this happen?” you cried into Larry’s lapel. “Just days before we were to get married!”

That’s when Larry chose to provide you with some words of comfort that proved to be rather strange.

“Well I promise to keep up my end of our marriage vow, even if Stephen couldn’t keep up his.”

You were a bit thrown, but you managed to ignore that he said it. People say odd things to someone in grief, and better just to move past it. But when you left his apartment that night, his words kept repeating in your head, and they chilled you a little more every single time you recalled them. You ended up telling your cab driver to change routes to take you to the police station.

“There’s our motive,” the lead detective says. “People have gone to way more extremes to make sure they got married. The only question is, will he do it again?”

The sting is on. You’re going to go away on what you’ll tell Larry is a vacation to get your head about you, but really you’ll just be hidden away in a safehouse. When you come back they’ll pair you up with Detective Donald Lawrence, a handsome undercover cop who you’ll pretend to have met in Playa Del Carmen and you were both so swept off your feet that you decided to get married.

“Then we wait,” the lead detective says.

This sting operation will hopefully uncover nothing at all. But deep in your heart you know that Larry really wants to get married, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you remain unwed for just a few months longer, just long enough to guarantee that you have to honor your vow to marry him. God be with anyone who wins your heart before you turn 35, because they’ll be saying their prayers for a quick, painless death at Larry’s bloody hands before they ever get the chance to say, “I do.”

Happy Wedding Vow Day!

If You Two Go Home Together Tonight People Will Die Day!

Go ahead. Go find an empty booth and talk to each other. Find out how much you both have in common. Find out how easy your conversation feels, how it feels like you’ve known each other for years. How it feels like you two intended to meet each other here tonight, almost like you’d planned it. Or someone did.

Go ahead and lean in for that first kiss. It will lead to a second. Then you’ll just fall into his body, your head against his chest, listening to his heart. It will be disarming to your friends who see you. It will look like you’re already boyfriend and girlfriend. It will look like they’ve seen you clumped up together in a booth like that every Saturday night for years. It will look totally expected, completely natural, and they’ll wonder if it’s always been this way.

Go ahead and leave the bar. Wander the streets telling each other the truth. Hold hands even. Fuck it. You already feel like you should, like it’s perfectly acceptable for two people who just met a couple hours ago to walk around your city holding hands. Stop occasionally to kiss. Stop occasionally to just press yourselves together. Stop occasionally.

Go ahead. Go on home to your apartment or his. Go ahead and fall into each other’s embrace before you even get through the apartment door. Go ahead to the bedroom and spend the next 72 to 96 hours absolutely devouring each other’s flesh, only to find that you’ve barely even begun to sate your hunger.

Go ahead and go home together tonight. Just know that if you do, people will die.

Not saying who. Not saying how. Not saying why.

But if you two go home together tonight, people will die.

Not saying if the people who are going to die are just fine with that, since they know your love is worth their lives coming to an end. Just saying what’s to be said.

You go home. They go away. It’s only fair that you know what’s at stake. Sometimes, there are repercussions to two people falling in love.

Happy If You Two Go Home Together Tonight People Will Die Day!

Your Dying Dad Wants To Talk About “Inception” Day!

It was on his hospital room TV last night.

“It was ingenious,” he says.

You nod and try not to say anything.

“So well thought out, the way it moved among all those levels within levels of consciousness,” he continues, rasping now.

Say, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“And just a riveting action movie to boot,” he adds. “Maybe the smartest, most exciting action movie ever.”

“Can I get you anything from the cafeteria?” you ask, trying to change the subject.

“You didn’t like it?” your Dad says.

You shrug coyly. He gets the picture.

“I can see why you might not have liked it,” your Dad says. “You were always a simpler kid. Never really interested in being challenged by a movie.”

That’s it.

“Look, I spent half of 2010 listening to idiots tell me that because I didn’t like a movie that had to use clumsy exposition to spell out what was happening in every goddam scene, I’m the one who’s not intelligent. Maybe people who liked Inception are the ones who aren’t smart because they’re so easily manipulated by a movie that’s more concerned with insisting to the audience how smart it is than with being entertaining.”

Your Dad is silent for a minute. Then…

“I’m on my fucking deathbed here.”

“I know, it’s just…”

“You tell me you don’t think I’m smart? When I’m on my deathbed? Just because I liked a movie I saw on TNT?”

You’re ashamed.

“I’ll admit all that snow shit looked like an assy Bond movie,” your Dad will say.

“Thank you!” you’ll shout. Then you’ll hug him. Everything will seem okay but he’ll die knowing what your opinion of him is.

Happy Your Dying Dad Wants To Talk About “Inception” Day!

Bottle Of Live Bees Day!

Your new roommate left a bottle of live bees on the kitchen counter with a note that reads, “This bottle of live bees is mine! No one should eat or otherwise make use of any of my live bees! I know exactly how many bees are inside and how deep the aerated cork is inserted into the neck of the bottle. Sharing a living space is about respect so please respect me and my bees. Also I threw out your yogurt. -Joan”

Spend a good hour writing Joan a strongly worded response letter explaining how throwing out your yogurt constitutes a violation of your personal surroundings and kind of amounts to assault. You’re only going to be roommates for so long so you might as well go apeshit on each other in insane kitchen notes while you can.

Happy Bottle Of Live Bees Day!

Your Cat Made Dinner Day!

Today you’ll be surprised when you come home to find a romantic dinner for two waiting for you on the table.

“Did you make this, Mr. Paws?” you’ll ask your cat.

“Yeah,” your cat will say. “I think I fucked up the sauce a little.”

“I’m sure it’s just delicious,” you’ll say as you take off your coat and sit down at the table.

Mr. Paws will pour you some wine and then sit down with you. You’ll start eating right away.

“You’re home a little late,” Mr. Paws will say.

“Not this again,” you’ll say as you stuff lamb into your mouth.

Mr. Paws will throw his fork on the plate. “No, this again, dammit! I slave away all day making you dinner, I don’t deserve a phone call telling me you’ll be late?”

“You can’t answer the phone! Remember? There’s a reason I didn’t name you Mr. Opposable Thumbs!”

“That’s not my point.”

“What is your point then dammit,” you’ll shout. Your fork will fall off your plate and onto your skirt. “Great, now this has to go to the cleaners.”

“Poor you!” your cat will yell. He’s starting to cry now.

“You know I could have you put to sleep,” you say. “Just take you to a shelter and say I’m done with you. It’s totally legal.”

“You’re a monster!” Mr. Paws will scream, running from the table to cry into his cat bed.

“You’re right. This is the saltiest fucking sauce I’ve ever eaten!” you’ll shout at his retreating tail.

Finish eating the meal and then go in and apologize before he takes out his anger on the upholstery of your easy chair.

Happy Your Cat Made Dinner Day!

You Steal Coats From The Chair Backs At The Library Day!

Today you’re going to steal a sweet London Fog from the chair of a college student who headed off to the men’s room. You’ll be halfway across the reading room when you’ll hear, “Dad!”

You’ll keep walking. Calmly. Can’t be for you.

“Dad stop!”

No way that’s for you. Unless…

“Security, that man has my coat!”

A guard by the door will grab you and tug the coat from your arms. He’ll turn you around to face the kid you stole it from.

“You don’t even recognize me, do you,” the kid will say.

You lost your glasses in a fight a month ago so you have to squint to see. Then you squint harder, hard enough to be sure you’re seeing what you’re seeing.

You can’t be blamed for not recognizing him. Last time you saw him he was ten. The only thing you recognize about him is the look in his eyes as he recognizes you. He’s looking at you like a kid would a father.

“This wasn’t a coincidence. I tracked you down here. A private investigator told me you steal coats from this reading room.”

“I wouldn’t have been any good to you,” you tell him. “You don’t want me back in your life.”

“I don’t,” your son says. “Mom’s dying. It’s her wish that you come back with me. Do that and you can keep the coat.”

Your son takes the coat from the guard and puts it over your shoulders, then he holds up two plane tickets. The two of you fly back to Michigan where you’re escorted to your ex-wife’s hospital bed. She wakes from her drugged sleep, sees your face, and starts to laugh.

“I have such a good son,” she says.

“Hi Muriel,” you say.

Your ex-wife says she’s tying up all her loose ends, and yours was the loosest.

“You left without saying goodbye,” she says. “Just disappeared. So I wanted to have the chance for us to have a proper farewell so I can say what I never got to say.”

Your ex-wife calls you a son of a bitch and spits in your face.

Your son leads you out of the room and hands you your plane ticket back. You fly home feeling good to have some of the guilt of your leaving washed away with your ex-wife’s spit. And you’re excited to have a warm new coat to help you get through this bitch of a winter.

Happy You Steal Coats From The Chair Backs At The Library Day!

The Gambler Day!

They call you “The Gambler” because you just bet your child’s college tuition on roulette. You put it all on black and the spin came up red so you lost everything.

“My God what have I done,” you shout as you fall to your knees by the table.

A few people will take pity on you by throwing chips on the floor around you. You’ll grab at them and bet them on black, but it will still come up red.

Finally you’ll crawl on all fours off of the casino floor, crying about how you’ve ruined your family.

“There goes The Gambler,” other casino patrons will whisper as you crawl past them. “He’s a legend.”

“So long Gambler!” a waitress will shout.

“Hey Gambler, where you heading next?” a boy will ask.

“I’m going to jump off of a bridge,” you’ll tell him. “The money I bet on that table is nothing compared to what I owe to the bookmakers.”

“Good luck Gambler!” the boy will shout as you crawl out the front door and make you way toward the bridge.

“I have a disease,” you’ll whimper.

Happy The Gambler Day!

There’s A Hidden Code In Your Daughter’s Finger Painting Of A Pony Day!

A Harvard art professor is in your kitchen aiming a black light at the finger painting on your fridge.

“Do you have any idea what this painting means?” the professor says.

“She’s very talented,” you say.

“We think she might be a prodigy,” your wife says.

The Harvard professor scribbles something in his notebook. Then he pulls some parchment out of his portfolio and compares the sketches on the parchment to your daughter’s pony finger painting.

“My God,” he says.

“Do you think she should be transferred to an accelerated program?” your wife asks.

“Or…” you say. “You could maybe write her a recommendation.”

“Your six-year-old daughter’s finger painting has proven thousands of years of Western society to be built on nothing but lies,” he says.

You and your wife high five. Some monks burst through the kitchen window and steal the finger painting before escaping into a waiting helicopter. The Harvard professor tries to chase after them but you manage to delay him enough to get a brief but effective recommendation letter.

Happy There’s A Hidden Code In Your Daughter’s Finger Painting Of A Pony Day!

You’re The Only Ones In The Restaurant Who Are Still In Love Day!

All the other couples gave up the ghost hundreds of dinners ago. But the light still burns for you two. Everyone can see it in the way you offer each other fork-fulls of food to try, in the way you reach across the table to touch each other’s hands the minute the bus boy clears your plates for the next course. They can see their past selves in you and remember when they felt like you feel. Some of them want to warn you of what’s to come, to tell you to try to hold onto how you feel for as long as you can, to not take it for granted. Others just want to sit as close to you as possible in the hope that your affection for each other might rub off on them and bring them a little closer to each other tonight. Unfortunately, one couple just feels way too pissed off at your happiness and they tipped your waiter a hundred and sixty dollars to let them take your food into the rest room and sprinkle it with urinal water, so you’ve been eating urinal water all night lovebirds.

Happy You’re The Only Ones In The Restaurant Who Are Still In Love  Day!

Be The Princess Who Remembers Where She Came From Day!

You were excited to be plucked out of poverty and away from your cunt step-sisters when the Prince saw how hot you were and fell in love with you. Once in the palace as his princess, though, you discovered just how little regard the monarchy has for the villagers and farmers who comprise their kingdom. You’ve tried to talk the prince into enacting more compassionate legislation but he doesn’t want to upset his father. So you’ve been coercing him to act by witholding sex from him. You first went a month telling him you were just too depressed to have sex thinking about all those high taxes your family has to pay while you’re living in that big castle, until eventually the prince got the message that lowering taxes meant he’d get some action. Then you told him you were too distracted to perform fellatio by the knowledge that so many people were in debtors’ prisons unjustly because of unconscionable lenders, so the prince convinced his father to have all debts under a certain threshold forgiven. You even got the palace whores in on it. They have family in the villages too. He’d go to them but they’d perform horribly to make sure he continued to long for you as his best sex ever. You only have a few more years before you get too old for the prince to find you as desirable as you are now, so make them count. Get the kingdom to subsidize farming and build some schools in the villages, then make him enact a law that makes it illegal for knights to rape commoners. You can do it. You can use your puss to make this kingdom a wonderful place.

Happy Be The Princess Who Remembers Where She Came From Day!

Throw Everything Out Day!

Your possessions are disgusting and today’s the day to stop possessing them once and for all. Throw out all of your furniture, clothing, erotic figurines, human ears, and children that you own and start fresh with all new ones. No sentimentality! Understand? No crying about how you don’t have any money to replace everything. No complaining that a lot of the stuff your husband paid half for. No worrying about how you’ll live without a bed, clothing, a refrigerator, a toilet, salt and pepper shakers, or your medicine. You have to get rid of everything because everything is filthy and you need to get clean.

This is the only way to get clean.

Happy Throw Everything Out Day!

God’s Big Date Day!

God’s got a big date tonight with Diana, the girl who works at the magazine store.

“What should I wear?” God asks some saints.

They suggest the white robe. Then they tell him not to be nervous.

“Don’t be nervous?” God thunders. “I haven’t been on a date since Shannon.”

Shannon worked at Borders back before God caused them to go out of business. She cheated on God with someone else he created.

“Getting cheated on with my own creation? I’m just supposed to bounce back from that?”

The saints tell God he should just be himself.

On the date, things are going really well. Then in the car God makes a move on Diana. They kiss. God puts his hand on Diana’s breast. They undress. Diana performs fellatio on God and then God performs cunnilingus on Diana. Then God does something weird with Diana’s feet but she’s okay with it. There’s some spitting. Diana demands of God, “Tell me I’ve been disobedient.” God enters Diana from behind and the intercourse lasts several minutes.

God drops Diana off at her place and promises to call her. Back at heaven the saints ask God how it went. God just smiles.

“I know that smile!” one of the saints says. The others high five him.

God waves them off and goes to his room to think about Diana. Does he really like her for her, or is he just excited to feel something for someone again? He likes thinking about her. He kind of can’t wait to see her again. Just before bed he causes a massive earthquake in Southeast Asia, killing hundreds of thousands.

“But Diana’s safe,” God thinks as he turns on his white noise machine to drown out the screams coming from Earth. “Diana’s safe.”

Happy God’s Big Date Day!

You Explain Divorces To Kids Day!

Divorcing parents pay you to come by and tell their kids that their parents are splitting up. You get a thousand bucks a kid. Today you’re doing the MacDougals. Two kids.

“Listen up,” you tell them while driving. You always break the news in your Cutlass. “Your parents are getting a divorce. Your mom fell in love with some guy she works with.”

They want to know what about their dad.

“He hasn’t met anybody yet, far as I know.”

They want to know why.

“He seems to still be in love with your mom. Seems like he expected it to last forever. The whole thing’s kind of knocked him on his ass so go easy on him.”

You’re driving them by the river. Life keeps flowing. That’s the message of that river. They get it.

“Why’s Mom doing this to Dad?” Bobby MacDougal asks.

“When you’re older you’re going to realize that you have to make a lot of decisions in life, and you regret all of them just a little bit. Some you regret more than others. You can’t go back and reverse everything, so you have to pick the decisions you regret the most and try and make a change.”

Debbie MacDougal asks, “So Mom regrets marrying Dad the most?”

You slam on the brakes behind the car in front of you. The kids are startled. Life can end at the drop of a dime. That’s the message with stopping short like that.

“Don’t try to read your parents’ minds,” you tell them. “Just let them overcompensate with presents and stuff. Here are some iPads.”

You throw the iPads into the back seat and they lose their shit.

“See, being children of divorce ain’t so bad right?”

They’ll be lost in their iPad screens. Drive them into a heavy, chaotic traffic jam, one with a burning car by the side of the road. Things might feel okay right now, but life is a slow crawl through chaos and suffering, is the message with driving into a chaotic traffic jam with a burning car by the side of the road like that.

Happy You Explain Divorces To Kids Day!

Transfer Student Day!

The transfer student makes everything possible. You think it’s just a fresh start for you, but the transfer student represents a fresh start for the entire school. You’re the fresh eyes who never saw anyone crying through lunch, the fresh ears who hasn’t heard the thousands of derogatory nicknames those students have been wearing like nooses around their necks since elementary school. For them, for everyone who sees you, you are a new beginning.

You have no idea the power you possess.

Make a friend today. Lure girls in with your stories of what teenage society consists of outside of their district. Tell them tales, tell them lies, tell them whatever it takes to win their trust and make them want to claim you as theirs.

Get a boyfriend. Lure one away from his long-term girl. Tell him what love was like where you came from. Tell him boys do things to girls where you came from, things you can teach him. You’re pretty sure he can learn, because he seems just as mature as the boys you used to know.

Introduce your classmates to a new synthetic drug. Show them a dance they’ve never danced before. Make them watch a Youtube video they never even heard of, and they thought they’d already seen them all.

You are the open door they can’t wait to storm through. You can lure them anywhere, even to their ruin.

You know your mission. You know what this means to Lower Hamilton High School that you infiltrate and demolish Washington East. This rivalry has gone on too long. It’s time to stop trying to settle this on the football field.

You’re our chance to take them down from the inside.

Happy Transfer Student Day!

Family Road Trip Day!

Take a road trip with your family. Get your kids into the back seat and your husband in the front and hit the fucking road.

“WHY ARE YOU DRIVING SO FAST? IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT! WHERE ARE WE GOING!” your kids and husband will shout. Tell them to shut their goddamn mouths or you’ll drive through a guardrail and into a gulch.

“Road trips are supposed to be spontaneous,” you explain once they’re all quietly cowering. “We’re going to drive and have dangerous adventures until something about us changes.”

You pull into bars and pick fights.

You break into vacation homes and steal silver and electronics.

You transport crystal meth and you pick up hitchhikers who remember seeing the ghost of Elvis Presley and you come to the aid of a crashed crop duster, managing to rescue the pilot before his plane bursts into flames.

You drive for four more months, and when you pause to celebrate your daughter’s eleventh birthday and your son’s ninth by the lip of the grand canyon, you all finally agree that you’ve each discovered something about yourselves that has changed you forever.

“I hate the road,” your daughter says.

“I hate America,” your son says.

“I hate being in a car,” your husband says.

“I want to spend the rest of my life in a tree,” you say.

Your husband hoists you up into a tree then he and your two kids wave goodbye as you climb higher and higher. Your husband says he’ll come back in a few months with divorce papers, but that he’s glad you’ve discovered yourself, and that you won’t be in his life to drag him on another awful trip like this one ever again.

Happy Family Road Trip Day!

The Lobby, 3:45 AM Day!

“Nightowl,” he says.

You look up from your book and smile a weak smile. “I just can’t stay in bed with my husband through the night,” you explain before returning to your book.

He should just go back to his work, whatever work a graveyard shift hotel desk clerk might have, but he’s not going to. He just got married and he wants to know if his wife does that. “Do all women do that?” he asks.

You tell him you’re sorry you bothered him and you’ll move to the business center.

“Do all women do that?” he asks again.

“I’m just a light sleeper,” you say, trying to put some comfort into your voice.

He asks if you were always a light sleeper. You don’t answer, which gives him your answer loud and clear.

“What stirs you?” he asks.

You close your book. “My eyes snap open like someone flicked a light-switch,” you say. “And I slither out of bed and watch my sleeping husband, feeling like I’m in control, like we’re engaged in some kind of war of wits and by waking up and living a few hours of conscious life without him even knowing it, I’ve got the drop on him.”

He’s terrified. “What do you think will happen if you sleep the whole night through,” he asks.

You shrug. “Not sure since I haven’t let it happen one time in the past fourteen years of marriage,” you say.

He asks again, “Do all women do that?”

“I don’t know if your wife does that,” you say. “Maybe she doesn’t need to since you work nights.”

“I’m just filling in tonight," he says.

Go to his desk and place your hand on his. "I love my husband,” tell him. “I just don’t want him to win.”

“Win at what?”

You can’t help but smile, he’s so adorably naive.

“Why, win at marriage of course,” you say.

Let go of his hand and go to the business center so he can make a frantic phone call home now.

Happy The Lobby, 3:45 AM Day!

He Cries More Now Day!

When you bump into him it’s the first time you’ve seen him in ten years. He looks the same.

“You look even better,” he says.

You do it at his place. He isn’t married, just like back then. He’s barely employed, just like back then. He’s still good in bed, just like back then. You tell him he hasn’t changed at all.

“I cry more now,” he says. “Sometimes for days at a stretch. Normal I suppose.”

You cry less.

“I also have more trouble going into buildings sometimes now,” he says. “Occasionally I’ll just start walking toward a building entrance and I’ll have to turn around and run. Part of aging I guess.”

That hasn’t happened to you yet.

“I also find myself following men who look well put together to see how they live and find out what they figured out. Is that something that just happens after 35?”

Yeah you don’t really do that at all.

“Anyway want to meet my squirrels?” he asks.

You tell him you have to head home.

“To your squirrels?” he asks, a little uneasy.

You don’t have any squirrels but just to calm him down you say, “Yes. They’re waiting for their nuts.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. He gave you a taste of your past, and you gave him the false hope that his present isn’t as off-course as he suspects it might be.

Happy He Cries More Now Day!