Saturday, 29 November 2014

The white stuff.

I hate snow. Have I mentioned it? Still not finding the novelty in it one bit. And I won't apologize for that, though the Christmas lights look very pretty after dark so yes, I will admit that much but nothing more.

I started reading Mr. Mercedes last night. It's glorious. I'm excited.

Caleb called from just outside the grounds of the Taj Mahal last night too, completely overcome with emotion as I have heard happens when you see it for the first time. I never ever will. He misses me. He is beyond exhausted and pushing himself every step. Not sure this is a good idea anymore but he's at the bitter end here, flying to Spain Monday for what he calls a hard reset (total flamboyant, unintentional nerdage), because he needs it so badly. Retirement has been busier than ever and he says he'll slow down but then doesn't.

Lochlan started reading Revival, because he is further along in the Stephen King release schedule than I am, because he's able to focus on things while I flit around like a moth to a flame.


I tell him it's because he's older.

Most nights when I have time to read in bed I wind up playing games on my phone instead. PJ and I have a contest going with Henry to see who can get the highest score in Stick Hero. I'm the furthest behind. Henry is so far ahead of us now it's become funny.  We did it with Flappy Bird too until I deleted the game in a fit of frustration. My high score? 5 in both games. I send PJ screenshots every time I add another point and he ignores the messages and then after days will return a screenshot to me that's in the double digits. I give up. I think I'll read instead.

Finally when I can sleep Ben will start to snore and then insist upon waking that he didn't sleep even a minute. He is worn out too but in a different way. He wants to keep me up to fill the time but I really need sleep at some point and can't stay up all night indulging him. And boy does he like to be indulged. He's the perfect enabler to my sex addict tendencies, refusing to deny me a thing. Then Loch will be done reading (he reads downstairs) and come up looking to indulge himself and how the heck am I supposed to resist his teenage grin and those curls?

Right. It can't be done. But then Ben gets all jacked up again and I'm pretty sure the reason I hate snow is because when I'm this tired I pretty much hate absolutely everything.

Except sex.

Because DAMN.