11 April 2001
I was working away at my desk yesterday when my cell phone rang. ("Rang" isn't quite right, though. The closest it gets to "ringing" is three rapid beeps. What it actually did was play a little electronic scale down and then up, over and over.) But I digress.
It turned out to be Kris. "Do you have any plans for tonight?" I couldn't think of any. "Well, you do now!"
And what were these plans? "You're going to come to the Rec Center with me and go swimming, and then come over for dinner!"
My brain started whining immediately about wanting to be lazy. "You know the temperature's going to drop, right?"
Kris' voice took on a stubborn tone. "You said to make you do it" she said, "so I'm makin' ya!"
Not that I didn't get to be lazy at all - Kris gets off work somewhat after I do, and she has a longer commute. So I got some time at home to have a snack and read my book. Matt called, to let me know he'd made it safely to The Middle Of Nowhere (aka Jacksonville, North Carolina), that he was coming home Thursday instead of Friday (yay!) and that he and the guys were contemplating the most excitement the town had to offer: Dinner at Applebee's. I warned him not to overdo it.
Then Kris called, and I got busy. Kris was warned not to let her heart rate go above 150 beats per minute, as more than that would reduce or even cut off the baby's oxygen supply. So after we settled into a lane (easier said than done, as an enormous number of classes were being held) we stopped at the end of each dog-paddled lap to take our pulses. So I know we maintained a fairly steady 120.
I haven't the slightest idea, however, how long we were in the pool. I don't think it was forty-five minutes. And I'm pretty sure it was more than fifteen. Twenty minutes? Half an hour? Who knows? We weren't looking at the clock; we were just swimming back and forth and talking. It was kindof fun, once I finished getting wet. (That's always the worst part. Once upon a time, I used to be the sort of person who would just dive in. But the Rec Center doesn't allow diving.)
In any case, when we were done, we went back to Kris' house, where Braz had just come in from the grocery store. We made cheeseburger pie while Braz hid upstairs away from our "Girl Talking" and then after dinner - of course - went out for ice cream. By the time I got home, it was nearly 10.
Which, come to think of it, isn't a bad way to spend an evening when your sweetie is out of town.
I'm glad Matt is coming home early. That means I've only got one more night - tonight - to spend alone, and I'm already scheduled to be doing some Meade Hall stuff tonight, so I've got a distraction lined up.
It also means - I hopehopehope - that Matt will be able to take Friday off, in partial payment for all the extra hours he's put in over the last week or so. (Sometimes it sucks to be salaried.) And if he can take Friday off, then maybe we can exchange Easter baskets this year, after all! (Because of the timing of his trip, we'd decided maybe we were better off not trying to rush around and do baskets. I didn't want him to feel guilty about mine because by the time he could go to the store, all that was left were black jelly beans and stale marshmallow gunk. Though I might point out that Matt's favorite Easter candies are black jelly beans and stale marshmallow gunk.)
I guess we'll see.
Word of the Day:
enjoinder - an authoritative request or command; prohibition or injunction
Currently Reading:
- Soldiers Live by Glen Cook
Current Projects:
- Kris' afghan
- gardening