We may not have a photographer or a Rabbi, but we’re going on a honeymoon

Things are looking up on the home front. We have pictures on the walls, curtains in the windows and we traded in our plywood countertop for an immovable stone one that I’m still not allowed to sit on.

But no matter what happens my closet is still in the kitchen.

I have a new boss at work. My old boss is still there, she’s just taking on another department. For my weekly supervisions I’m meeting with both of them, so instead of 1 to 1s I’m having having 1 to 2’s.  I’m a big fan of my new boss and not just because she bought me a beer the other night. And not just because she might read this blog since I mentioned it over the course of my two beers.

I head home to Captain around 8pm, a little buzzed, in good spirits and ready for bed. As I chat with Captain in the kitchen/my dressing room. I strip out of my work clothes and slip into my snuggy ready-for-bed robe. Captain asks,

“Is that what you’re wearing to meet the photographer?”

“What? NO!!!” I forgot I scheduled a meeting with a wedding photographer at 9:00pm at night. I put my clothes back on. As we head out the door, I ask Captain,

“Why did I do this to us?”

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