It’s a day of errands: banking, insurance, groceries and the like. The more I do, the more I realize I need to do. Piles of laundry, dishes and papers everywhere, and I can’t recall the last time I really whipped this house into shape. Not that the housework has been generally ignored, Ben tries to maintain order, whereas I try my best to replicate a fabulous little hurricane–leaving shoes, and coats and purses and keys in my wake. Ben has been bravely facing the house work alone while I work on the the blog, and he patiently waits for me to finish the work so I can spend time with him. The last thing I want to do is neglect him or hurt his feelings because he is my best friend, my rock, my companion, my lover, the butter to my bread, the air that I breathe…and he’s the only one in the house that can get things off the top shelf, so I need to be in his good books. I plan to pick him up from work and make him a meal with my own two hands and pay so much attention to him it’s totally going to creep him out–like when a dog watches you while you eat. And I will do all that because I love him, and he deserves a little quiet and order before the next storm front approaches.