Every single night, I flick the switch on my kettle and solemnly walk around my place, turning off the TV and lamps. They’ve already been closed, but I pull the living room blinds up for a minute to see what the lake looks like in the dark. I shut down my email, browser, iTunes and hit the button on the computer. I grab my cellphone and my iPod and head for the bedroom. I go to the right side of the bed and turn back the covers. I call out for Stan, "Time for bed. Is it time for bed?" He runs into the room, hops onto the chest at the end of the bed and stares at me.
I grab my hot water bottle and head back to the kitchen. I make a cup of tea first, then fill my Little Hottie up with scalding water and hug it to my chest as I navigate back to the bedroom in the dark. Alone.
I turn on the TV for company and either settle in with my current book or open my Sudoku book and do a puzzle. Sometimes I’ll even pick up my laptop for a last minute obsessive perusal of the Internet.
I sleep on the right side all night long, Stan lays across my leg (or runs around trying to wake me up.) And that’s that. Just me and Stan and my hot water bottle. And it’s great and ok and everything but sometimes I long to pack my hot water bottle away again and cuddle up to a man, you know?
I need me some love.