is that it’s cold as hell and your bed has all the cozy. i never said i was virtuous. T-minus nine hours until that bacon cheeseburger is inside my mouth again.
i get to just be. do you know how big that is, in my corner?
isn’t it sea otters who nest within our Pacific Giant Sea Kelp as an adaptive measure against night tides? they’re still terribly endangered, and we’re to blame, but bless them for clinging to whatever provides succor against even more primal a force than human insatiability. i’m not ready to be hurled into my open ocean either (nature, not nurture). so i too swaddle myself in anchors.
because i’m living for it right now. not leaving this bed until absolutely necessary (read: hunger, thirst, light-turning-off, invitation to enjoy good company).
is essentially what’s keeping me in bed at this technically ridiculous hour of day. sleeping in, like napping, is a feat i often lunge for and almost always faceplant, swearing like a sailor, after a flailed miss. last night, i somehow snatched the former. my prize: almost eleven hours of seamless repose. can you blame me for lounging on my laurels? of course you can, but that doesn’t mean i have to pay you any mind.
and she said no, she gets more than enough of my company on the nightly. i so rarely am the first to disengage from an embrace; why should this be an exception? i can hardly blame the blankets for desiring some couple-time. we don’t know how hard we cling until we see white knuckles and balky glances.