Feeling: comfortable
Listening to: Dana Fuchs - Helter Skelter
Reading/Watching: Syriana

Tonight I spent the best part of my day in two different one-hour chunks.

One was from 12:45 until 1:30, when my fifth period breezed through their sight reading (not even noticing the flub I made in my Curwen hand signs, because they were too busy reading the notes instead of following me. This = HAPPY), sang with gusto through their songs, completing their work on two and even having some silly trash-talk back and forth between the voice parts (until the choir "president" for 5th period spoke up and shushed them so we could get back to work), and waited patiently for me to dismiss them row by row when the bell rang.

They walked out the door, and I turned to my assistant director, saying, "This is why I have this job. This, right now, today, is what I'm here for."

Got home, and after pizza and sabzi, mon coeur and I decided to take a nap, and instead wound up curled up like pretzels, while I told him a story about our life in six months.

"You're driving home from work, and it's raining hard. You pull into our driveway, and our home is easy to find, even in the dark, because it's the only one on the block that's teal-blue. You open the garage with your clicky-button, park next to my car, and walk through the pantry to get into the house.

"The rain is pouring off the edges of the back porch roof, and you can see the dark green leaves of the trees shiver in the raindrops through the panes of the french doors. You turn, walk through the kitchen, and put the breakfast tacos you brought home in the fridge. You go past the dining room which has an upright piano instead of a table, and head up the stairs. Allegra is tumbling halfway down to meet you, and winds up hitting the tile floor and skidding a bit before she can stop and turn to follow you back upstairs.

"You don't even pause in the game room on the left, you hook a right and walk into our room. Rain is pouring down the windows, tossing the branches of all the trees in all the yards and empty lots on the street. I'm still asleep in bed, because it's spring break and I don't have school.

"You undress in our ridiculously massive bathroom, and throw your dirty clothes in the hamper" (at this point we have a tussle over whether 'hamper' is a secret code word for 'floor'), "then take a quick shower and come to bed with me.

"I wake up, because of course you're a big hairy ape and you're smothering me with body heat, and I get up to let Allegra out to pee. She follows me downstairs, into the kitchen, then pauses on the threshold of the back porch and sees the rain pouring. I open the door, and she throws me a look that says 'That must be some potent crack you're smoking.' I poke her out the door with my foot, she does her business hastily, and makes a point to stand next to me when she shakes the water off her fur.

"I get one of the tacos out of the fridge, and eat it while it's still warm. Then, because it's raining so hard, I decide not to watch stupid daytime TV and go back upstairs to snuggle you while the rain drums on the roof. And we sleep for hours until the rain stops and Allegra jumps on the bed and sits on my pillow, which is currently occupied by my head, so of course I wake up."

At this point in my low-voiced narrative, I looked over at him, and he was fast asleep. Guess it was a good bedtime story.

I'm having fun thinking it over, myself.

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