Last evening I arrived home to a hot meal of broasted chicken and mashed taties--delicious! And payback, presumably, for the bouquet delivered to her work yesterday, which was much less edible. I'm not gungho for the Valentine's thing, but it's an important day for us, given we started dating around this time 16 years ago.
After dinner there was a game of [CENSORED] with some strawberries, an incident of shocking [CENSORED] involving the digital camera and a quart of intimate gel, and finally the usual extended bouts of [CENSORED], [PROHIBITED], and [NOT SUITABLE FOR YOUNG AUDIENCES].
Then, I played a naughty game of hide-and-seek with Sleep. Sleep graced me with her presence for about an hour, then slithered off into the attic, thence to the eaves, thence down the drainspout into the sewer. "Ollie ollie oxenfree!" she shouted, and I was awake all night, dry-eyed and petulant, dreading the 8am Arabic class more than ever. It's hard enough rolling one's R's at any given time; try doing it with a mouth gluey due to unattained rest. Sleep crept close a few times, teasingly, only to escape, tailess chameleon, into the gloom of the waning gibbous moon, vexer of REM, bane of Hypnos.
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