Perhaps in the midst of the hair-and-dust-raising activities of "packing up", Snarky will think back on her and The Mister's history together. Like many couples these days, they met online. The first month of their acquaintance was spent practicing the simultaneously high and low tech tradition of courting over email.
Their exchanges were refreshingly open and honest from the get-go. She was finishing her degree in a field she did not respect, and he was working in an industry that no longer interested him. They found a kindred spirit in eachother's restlessness.
Sometimes they made simple poetry challenges to eachother. One day The Mister asked Snarky to compose a quick poem using words no longer than four letters. Here's what she came up with:
soft paws
pad pad pad pad
purr
cat eyes look at you
a grin? (too fast to tell)
now she goes
zoom!
on your lap
pad pad pad pad stop
"mine"
say her eyes
you nod, "yes"
Snarky's still in that purgatorial "will they or won't they?" place, but the expected immediate dismissal of the Snark's addendum to their offer on the house did not happen.
So they've entered a counter-counter-offer suggesting a credit for all the little fixes they listed on the addendum.
She hasn't dared to look at the 70+ photos she took of the house during the home inspection. She's been trying to let go already of all the future days she was projecting into all those fanciful rooms.
It didn't help that Snarky had the whole day off to wallow and sulk. She did manage to get out for a walk to the library (and, ahem, the LUSH store) but now she's back at home with an hour to burn before The Mister makes it home.
Must. Be. Strong. Don't look at the pictures!
She's going to go and knit in a corner.
