Yeah yeah yeah. I know. Posting has been sparse. I am so fucking busy at work that it’s ridiculous. I spend more days a week in meetings than there are parody blogs. I have no chance to check my oh-so-legitimate work email much less my personal email or any blogs. I got your emails. I got your frantic phone calls. I am still alive and still in love. Just busy. I’ll stop bitching now.
I had a couple things in the works to post on, but I wanted to clear them with Sherlock first. I asked him and he said he doesn’t care. But in a way, I care. I seem to have a need to write only when there are extremes in the relationship – us at our worst or us at our best. The things in the middle of that continuum seem to define the mundane, at least to outsiders. To me though, that’s the gold. That’s the stuff that makes the relationship. So, here it is – a blast of where we are and how we’re doing.
My breakup/stomach virus weightloss is now in retrograde. It may have something to do with all those milk duds and the non-stop eating out that Sherlock and I have managed to accomplish. Then I cashed in a bunch of frequent flier miles for restaurant coupons. Oops. That ain’t gonna help one bit. That’s a good lead into our weekend by the way.
I’m not that chick who brings her boyfriend to the gym. Not so much a fan of that couples workout thing. I prefer to go to the gym and get in my zone. I notoriously won’t even bring my cell phone to the gym. But, Sherlock wanted to work out with me, so fine. Last Saturday night I agreed to take my gym up on their guest allowance and we worked out together. When we first got there, he did his thing and I did mine. Then we connected and lifted weights together. He said he was just going to follow me from place to place and do exactly what I was doing. A couple times he made comments like, “This is the weight you lift? This is what some guys I know lift.” Guess who was sore the next day? I’ll give you a clue, it wasn’t me. The irony here is that Sherlock has a rocking body and he’s always giving me nutrition advice so I really laughed my ass off at him when he was too sore to get his coat on. Oh, FUCK! I wasn’t supposed to say that. I think we agreed I would post something about my big tough strong boyfriend. Huh. Oh well. Fucked that up and I can’t seem to find the backspace key right now…
So, this past Friday night while you all were drinking your adult beverages, Sherlock and I were running on the treadmill. Yes, we’ve entered the land of lame. I just don’t feel like going out right now. It’s cold and even though the bars are blissfully smoke free, I’d rather workout, watch movies and replace calories expended with milk duds.
Saturday was the day I thought would be the entire focus of my next post, but eh, not so much. Sherlock and I went shopping at Target and the pet store. When we got back to his place, I had plans to meet up with EJ for a real estate brainstorming session. He told me to just leave all the bags because he wanted to unpack and organize everything. As I was leaving, he had started tearing his place apart cleaning. I wasn’t planning on asking him why he was acting all weird because I get like that too. I still have remaining boxes of shit my parents left with me a few weeks ago and that drives me batshit just looking at it. Anyway, back to Saturday.
Sherlock: I don’t want you to freak out but I’m just trying to get used to your stuff being here.
Velvet: Uh, you are the one who wanted my stuff here. While I know you would prefer to have me here naked, I do, like, need some clothes to wear this weekend, and some moisturizer for my face, and you know, tampons because it’s that time of the month.
Sherlock: I know, and I’m not backing up or getting scared, it’s just that I’m a clean freak and I’m trying to get used to this. I look around and just see a house out of order.
I looked around at all the dog toys in his place. Then, at that moment, Thora realized that the bags by the door contained new toys for her to destroy. I watched her dig in one of the bags and grasp a toy between her teeth. She couldn’t manage to free it completely from the bag, but that didn’t stop her from trying to play with it. She has my determination, that’s for sure. So she’s running around the house squeaking her new toy, with a Petsmart bag over half her head, and other toys tumbling out of the bag all over the place. Because it was so damn cute, and because of Esther’s recent loss, moments like that remind me how much I love those little dogs. Sherlock, however, just wanted to clean. So I left.
Sunday we didn’t have a lot in the way of plans, which is how I prefer my weekends. We went to look at a couple open houses in his building, then one in Logan Circle. After that, we went to Whole Foods. He stepped into the hardware store first while I got a jump on the shopping. Whole Foods is such a fucking disaster at any day and time during the week and I’m just not good in crowds. I haven’t had a panic attack in probably over month, maybe longer, but I could feel it starting. Shopping cart long since abandoned, I was at the salad bar trying to make my way through, and I was getting pushed in all directions. I swear that stupid overpriced grocery store is the only piece of New York City we have here in D.C. Why drive to New York when you can just go to Whole Foods? What a nightmare. I called Sherlock from alongside the 7 layer dips and said, “You have to come here now.” I was freaking out. I started to take my coat off in anticipation of pending hot flashes.
He came in, retrieved me, and the cart which was holding my Lobster Bisque and Blueberry Pie (hello!!! SCORE!) and we got in line where we spent the rest of our Sunday afternoon. See why I never make plans? A couple open houses and a trip to the worst grocery store in D.C. hijacked our entire weekend. Actually, okay, that’s not true. We did get home in time to watch the Grammy’s. Though I spent most of it with my sweatshirt covering my face. No, it wasn’t because of the singer of the Dixie Chick’s hellacious white dress that looked like a Parade Float. It was because that Lobster Bisque did something awful to both my stomach and Sherlocks. Sigh. We’ve reached a new level. Isn’t it wonderful?
Hey – does anyone know a good fumigation company?