There's this head cold wrapped about my brain in angry gauzy layers, buzzing through conversations, and apparently causing me to act rather selfish in bed.
"You were SUCH a bed hog last night!"
It's amazing how with some people the intimacy is so easy, things that would be terrible with others are just things with princess, her head too level to bow to shame or ridiculous things.
Melodrama is the weapon of head-colds.
I haven't giggled this much in aeons, when she ambushed me the other night just before I'd finally dropped off to sleep with the stuffed noise-making hammer and smacked me on the head with it like I'd deserved for hours by then.
More fits of giggles, talk of things that would crisp the ears off a fly would it happen to be perched on my wall and had it happened to actually have grown ears to espy us with.
Yesterday evening quiet, turning down offers of this or that from these or those phone calls, my day spent at the bank trying to decipher my insurance papers, and at work answering slightly skewed questions, all the while thinking of princess wandering the over-priced and over-painted halls of Versailles where I'd promised to go with her, and couldn't.
We played card games on my crisp unused Star Wars decks, only not for long, then collapsed into filthily unladylike conversations, laughed at my awkward attempts at the twelve yoga positions (in preparation for a trial class on Saturday), talked of futures and hazy, wavering things that in the descending fog of this cold I was suddenly no longer sure about.
In the afternoon in between bouts of inefficient work, I e-mailed David the rough draft of his birthday present, something he'd asked me to write months ago.
One day, perhaps with Andy's help, I'll be less ashamed of the awkwardly turning phrases and might print it carefully and turn it real.
I'm still wondering what he thought of the carefully chosen material gift, wondering what he did last night, how much he laughed, what his last thoughts were before dropping off to sleep on his first day as a __-year-old.
It occurred to me at some point that both our ages are square numbers.
It occurred to me later that I haven't heard him think in a while.
I guess I am looking forward to getting to know him again in a week and a bit from now.
This head-cold however infuses the cumulus of my thoughts with strange colours.