Him, from the bedroom: “It’s quiet out there.”
Me, on the couch in the living room and typing: “Yup.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m writing.”
A pause. “Writing writing?”
“Mmhm.”
“Ohhhh.”
There have been many serious discussions between me and The Guy about personal time, which both of us — being older adults, being solitary creatures — need on a regular basis.
I have told him I’m not the kind of chick who needs to be by his side 100% of the time, and he nods and says he understands, but I suspect over the next six months he will really come to understand as I slide back into writerly things.
I’ve been dealing with deadlines from hell and The Guy moving in, but I do actually hope to get some substantial writing on Lelia done this weekend. And if not this weekend, then certainly the next, when the first round of holiday visitations end, and I can pretend things are normal for a little while.
