All in one day too! It’s an exciting life I lead, I know.
This is what I thought when I woke up yesterday morning at 0430 in my bed, with the sweaty imprint of my ABSITE study book on my face, lights still on, and no Brit in bed next to me. If he wasn’t in bed at this hour, there was only one other place he could be. And, indeed, there he was: Slumped over on the couch, fast asleep, bathed in the glow of the TV, jacket still on after having come back from a late night of birthday celebrating, with an empty wine glass in his hands. Empty, not because he’d drank all the wine, but because he’d spilled all the wine. All over the couch. I swear, at times like these, he’s lucky he’s got cute dimples. Back to bed we went. Until a couple hours later when I had to be up for my test…
Little did I know that I’d manage a first degree burn to the right thigh before an 8am exam. But hey, I get a lot done in the mornings. Why not. So there I was at 7:40 in the am, parked on a hill outside the test center. The consequence of trying to close one’s car door while on a hill while carrying five things (one of which was an orange and the other of which was my thermos full of hot tea) with just two hands goes a little something like this: Juggle items in hands while trying to close car door with bum. Drop orange. Orange begins to roll down hill. Chase orange. Bend over to grab it before it rolls under another car. Spill boiling hot tea all over right thigh. Howl “OUUUUUUUUUCH!!!” at the top of lungs while dancing around. Drop orange all over again. [Cue Benny Hill Show theme song.] (Really, he couldn’t have played it any better.) Well done me.
This is what I thought when I settled into my seat for the exam and read the good luck card The Brit had strategically placed on my car’s dashboard for me to find. It warmed my heart (and, incidentally, the burn on my right thigh). It also made me laugh…because he’d clearly written the first ¾ of it while sober, and the last ¼ of it after coming back from celebrating. (The sloppier handwriting and the fact that he misspelled his own name in the signing of it kind of gave it away.) It was truly lovely, though, and just the vote of confidence I needed before taking a 5-hour multiple choice standardized exam. Well done dear Brit.
This is what I thought as, just a few hours after finishing the exam, The Brit and I were driving up the coastal highway for a weekend of relaxing at a friend’s beach home. Suffice it to say: Much good food was eaten. Much needed sleep was slept. Many sweet nothings were whispered. Much walking was done along the beach. And all wine was consumed rather than spilled on the couch. And thank goodness for that since I hardly think the owner of the beach home, and the lovely white leather couch within it, would find The Brit’s dimples quite as charming as I do.