I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Hello.  

Long time no see.  

In fact, it’s been one day short of a month, since I last wrote a post. 

It’s been suggested that since I’ve changed jobs, I have nothing to write about.  

This couldn’t be farther from the truth.  Every day I pull out my phone and jot down notes about potential entries in the never-ending saga of a restaurant manager.  Stories about guests, funny employees, my first job, dining out in Boston, and commentary about stories in the news.  

And I’ll get to them.  I will.  

Today however, I thought I might tell you why I haven’t been writing.  

To be honest, it’s because I’m a selfish asshole.  

Adam and I just celebrated our 15^th anniversary.  

15 fucking years.  

When I met him, I hadn’t dated anyone in 5 years and had little interest in ever dating again.  

Boys are bad, bad news. 

But alas, the magic happened, we were smitten and the rest is history.  

Here’s the thing.  

In 15 years, Adam and I have never, ever, ever, ever had the same schedule.  

Never.  

Ever.  

He’d leave early.  

I’d leave late.  

He’d have to work till 1:00 a.m.  

I got off at 6:00.  

He was off on Tuesday and Wednesday.

I was off on Monday and Tuesday.  

For the past three years, he’d text around 11:00 that he was going to bed.  

I’d get home sometime after that.  

I didn’t want to go to bed as soon as I got home.  He needed sleep in order to get up and be at work early.  

Then I lost my job.  

And I found myself home all the time.  Which meant, when Adam was home, I was home.  

And it was awesome.  We had dinner together.  We went to bed together.  

Life was good.  

But alas, all things come to an end.

At the beginning of December, I started back to work.  

And miracle of miracles. 

We have the same schedule.  

ISH.

He gets up 30 minutes before I do.  I get home an hour or so after he does.  

We have dinner together almost every night.  In fact, three weeks ago, he told me he didn’t want to be responsible for dinner every night and we agreed that he’d cook on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.  

We get to watch TV together.  We’ve watched more TV in the past 6 weeks than in the past three years.  

And best of all.

We go to bed together. 

In the past, he’d be in bed when I got home and I’d be asleep when he left the next morning.  

Now we go to bed together.  He looks at Tik Tok’s on his phone, while I actually read books. We have The Golden Girls on in the background and there’s always a cat or two at the bottom of the bed.  

This is the gay agenda you’ve been warned about.

And after about 30 minutes we turn off the light, and we snuggle and we go to sleep together.  

And life is good.  

It’s very fucking good. 

But alas, I haven’t been able to figure out where writing goes in this schedule.  

I’ll never do it before work.  I’m not a morning person.  If I ever tell you that I’m going to get up and do something before work, you should know that I am lying.  

And I don’t want to write late, as I love going to bed with Adam.    

And I don’t really want to do it when I get home from work, because I like catching up with my boyfriend and hearing about his day, and not venting about my new job.  

So last week, I told Adam that I might start staying at work 30 minutes late and writing.  

And I asked my boss if he’d mind if I hung out for a few in the office and write.  (He knows about and has read my posts).  

And he said of course not. 

Now, it’s Friday night at 8:30. the shift upstairs is winding down.  I have a club soda on my desk and I’m listening to the sounds of the restaurant above me.  

And I’ve written a post. 

Mostly to let you know that I miss writing.  I miss sharing my fun adventures.   I miss the outlet.  

I’ll try this for a while, and perhaps, in a month or so, I’ll try something else.

Until then, I’ll continue to hang out late at work and find time to write.