So. Yesterday we were given a memo stating that if management closes the office due to a storm day, we’ll be paid. If they decide on a storm day to reopen the office, and we can’t make it in, we won’t get paid for that day. Today, it’s a bonafide blizzard. I was told to be in by 11. It’s 11:20, I’ve been here half an hour, and I’m all by myself.

The phone’s not ringing, so fuck it. I’m writing a journal entry. I haven’t in forever. I haven’t done much of anything in forever. But last night, I finally picked up the delicious soft graph-paper notebook I bought the last time I was in Halifax, and started drawing a map of a place that doesn’t exist. It’s the first step in creating a world, a world that I might will eventually write about. It looks really nifty. I kinda wish it were bigger, but I couldn’t find bigger graph paper - and besides, half the point was using my delicious soft graph-paper notebook.

Outside of work, and when I’m with my people, I’ve never been happier. Kevin and I have more fun that I’d ever dreamed of having. We laugh and playfight and do silly things and enjoy each other completely.

Our moving-in-together is getting closer and closer (but never close enough) and we talk about it a lot. Kev's got some things stashed away, like a chair his mom bought us on the cheap, and a set of dishes in his attic, and he went out yesterday and bought a really good frying pan because my cast iron one is great for bacon, but when he wants to cook eggs, he wants ‘em tefloned all to hell. Plus we have our vacuum, and the freezer, and his mom promised us her “old” couch and loveseat (mostly so she can get a new set) and most of all, our enthusiasm.

We discussed a mobile home yesterday, a specific one that a friend of his family is selling and the porch of which he and his dad built. It’s in a park right now, a really icky, urban, no-yard park, but those things can always be moved, and the more we talked of it, the better it started to sound. We’re going to try and look at it, anyway.

Decorating will be interesting. I cannot do Traditional, but the couch and loveseat are very much so. They’re so very much being covered the second they get in the door of wherever we’ll be. And, he wants end tables and a coffee table. A coffee table. I hate those things. We were ridiculously silly on the phone last night discussing the coffee table. I told him we should have a credenza, because at least it’s not in the middle of the room. He said, “I NEED a coffee table,” and I said, “I NEED a credenza!” It’s hard to explain in words how much fun we were having, fighting over this nonexistent coffee table. In the midst of laughter, I said, “I hope this is the worst fight we have,” and he said, “there’s not much else to fight about!” Hey, if it’s the only one, we may as well make it a good one!

---

I just got hold of my boss. She said she called everyone to say not to go in until onepm. But she didn’t have my number. So here I am.

Fuck.