To The Next Thirty Naps

Disclaimer: The back story is much sweeter and sentimental than the actual story. They were written at two different times and one does not particularly flow into the other. You have been warned.

Back Story:
One month before I moved in with Ty, the two of us were chatting over a glass of wine. I smiled as I looked at him and told him that thirty days from now we would be getting ready to move me into his apartment. He kissed me and clinked his wine glass with mine. “To the next thirty days,” he said.

Now, five years later, any time we pour a drink and say a toast, it’s always to the next thirty [fill in the blank]. The next thirty bottles of good wine. The next thirty arguments we work out. The next thirty times we have to yell at the dog. The next thirty years. The next thirty corny jokes. The next thirty songs on Pandora. The next thirty new friends we make. The next thirty Christmas trees.

And now you know where I got the title of this post from, and what we toasted to on this particular evening. So on to the…

Actual Story:
Driving to work one day last week I found myself with a headache, joint aches, and exhausted out of no where. During my morning meeting my body vacillated between freezing and burning up. My hands hurt. My shoulders hurt. My brain hurt. Clearly I was coming down with the flu. I left work early to go home and nurse myself back to health.

Then…as soon as I set foot in my house…I felt just fine. I had just used a half day of leave for no good reason! Obviously, my body was giving me a sign that I was not meant to adult (it’s a verb) that day. So, I crawled in bed, listened to a book on audible, and played games on my phone for the two hours until Ty arrived home. It was glorious. And then it was even glorious-er when Tyler decided that he didn’t want to adult any more either, so he crawled in bed and cuddled the hell out of me while we both took a nap.

Fast forward another two hours and we had eaten dinner at a time that my grandmother would consider early. We were hunkered down on the couch with a bottle of red wine and the dog, watching Robin Hood Prince Of Thieves and refusing to do grown up shit for the rest of the night. It was an awesome respite from the harrowing trauma that tends to be the holiday season.

In short, I encourage everyone to take a break from shopping, wrapping, baking, (work, if possible) and generally feeling like a frenzied mess. Please, spend a couple of hours giving the finger to the holidays and all of the adult shit we have to get done because of them.

Yes, I tend to be a ball of sunshine. Merry Christmas, everyone!

(I also happen to own the most appropriate shirt for a day like this and made sure to break it out for the occasion.)

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