"Yesss! He issss my....boyfriend."

I love a good paraphrased "Young Frankenstein" reference first thing in the morning, don't you?

Okay, okay...those of you who are my Bacefook friends know that I referred to Hot Med as my "boyfriend." What the heck, right? He is, for all intents and purposes.

Don't go expecting any "save the date" emails from me any time soon, though...I still have serious doubts about the longevity of this relationship. For now, though...well, I'm just going to enjoy it while I enjoy it, and try not to think too much about the concept of "expiration dating." (Thank you "Sex and the City"--I can always count on you for a good catchphrase.)

There was a moment last night when I thought the relationship was going to end right there, when he bluntly told me that my house "smelled" and I should probably clean it. Okay, buddy....stop it right there. For one thing, the house did not "smell" like anything but incense. I am VERY sensitive about odors, multiple pet-owner that I am, and at that moment, the house smelled okay. It was maybe a little stuffy, as the temperatures have been relatively mild, and the A/C hasn't been kicking on much, so the air stagnates a bit...but it did not "smell." And yeah, we're nearing the weekend, which is when I DO clean, so, while everything is neatly in its place, it could all use a good sweeping and dusting. But, as I pointedly pointed out to him (hee), when would I have had time to do any extra cleaning this week? What with the full-time job and ferrying him around like a taxi service? He became concerned that I was "sad" and started saying "don't cry." Heh. I responded that I wasn't "sad," and had no intention of crying, but that what he said was mean and I was very ANGRY. He spent the next ten minutes apologizing. As he should have.

Anyway, the rest of the evening passed without incident, for the most part, though he did complain on the way home about how long the distance is between our houses. And what, I asked, am I expected to do about THAT? He's moving into a new apartment in a couple of weeks, which will be a little closer to my house, and way closer to his job (and his sister's), and is considerably larger, and will hopefully provide the possibility for a little more privacy, so we won't HAVE to drive all the way to my house every time we want to be alone. We'll see how that goes.

He wanted to spend the night at my house last night, but there was NO WAY I was getting up an hour early to shlep him to his house and back before work, and so I told him. Logistical difficulties may kill this relationship sooner than anything else. Heh.

So, anyway, I went to bed feeling pissy, but woke up in a somewhat more charitable mood. The restaurant where he works has started mixing up his schedule--some lunch shifts, which he's used to, and some dinner shifts, which he's NOT. Staying up past 11:00 is very hard for him, and he was clearly exhausted last night. He was practically falling asleep on the drive home, and I'm pretty sure you'd have to pay extra to take those bags under his eyes on an airline these days. So I'm cutting him some slack. I was kind of tired, too...and I think perhaps we've just seen a bit too much of each other this week. Maybe I just need a little "me" time.

I can enjoy a little of that "me" time tonight and tomorrow night, as I wait for 10:30 to roll around, at which time I am going to get up off the couch and go pick him up from work and take him home (he's got back-to-back night shifts). I volunteered for this duty, mind you, as I knew it was REALLY hard for his brother to be up that late (he goes to bed even earlier than Hot Med), and of course the buses don't run that late and it would be a pretty scary walk at that time of night, and blahblahblah, I'm way too nice a person, aren't I? To his credit, Hot Med, upon being informed of this arrangement (which I made with Hot Bro behind his back), expressed concern about me being out that late, but I assured him that I am almost never actually in bed before midnight, so I'll be okay. And this particular problem will solve itself when he moves, as it will then be only a five-minute walk home through a well-lighted neighborhood for him.

So...this having a "boyfriend" business is just exhausting, isn't it? I'd forgotten.

On the flip side, though...he's quite insistent about coming over some time this weekend and helping me trim my seriously overgrown trees and shrubs, so that's nice. And he's very good about holding doors, grabbing my reading glasses for me if he sees me grab something printed and squint, holding my purse, etc. (New Guy wouldn't even TOUCH my purse. Seriously. Some idiotic divorce counseling advice on reasserting his "manhood." I asked him once...if I fell and broke both arms, and needed you to drive me to the hospital, would you grab my purse for me on the way to the car? His answer? No.)

So, one day at a time, and we'll see...what we see.