I woke up in my lover's bed, which - although a year ago I'd have said you were 'avin a laugh if you told me I'd ever say that - didn't really surprise me, not least of all because I didn't sleep that well, even after
- a movie
- a very cosy bed
- many snuggles
- (un)acceptable touching
- frantic sex
- violent male orgasms
- more licking
- sensual female orgasms
- story reading
I guess I'm just an insomniac.
Nevertheless, I woke up a little dreary, went straight back to sleep and was then woken up again by a second alarm, and then didn't manage to get back to sleep, because TD seemed to be talking herself awake - which is a quite good way to do it, actually, I should try that - and realised with a heavy heart that I needed to get home, because a 2000-word essay on chronic heart failure really has to be the highlight of a Christmas break.
This was when she had the remarkable idea that - wait for it - I could just stay here. Yes, she has to go to work, but I could be here when she gets back. I've done that before, after all (although that time she didn't know I was here). And what's more, she has a new laptop (behold my casual logging into my own account), so - with incredible force of will I brought some notes with me and even pencilled some suggestions in on the train - I've now:
- set up her laptop for the Internets
- downloaded Firefox
- downloaded Thunderbird
- tested a Mac OS package I've been meaning to test for months on her brother's Mac (thanks, Her Brother)
- written 600+ words of my essay (that's going to need some serious cutting down, but 600 words in an hour is still below my usual ability, I'm taking it steadily)
- e-mailed it to myself
And so... now you find me sitting in her room, with her fully set-up new laptop (Windows Vista is awful though, why couldn't they finish it before releasing it?), listening to music I'm streaming directly from my own server, blogging away merrily while trying not to sing along, and wondering if I can cadge a bit of lunch from her dad, looking forward to her return, and glancing at the graphic novel - and two Belle de Jour books - that await my perusal this afternoon.
I am content.