The days are getting noticeably shorter- I leave for work when it’s still dark outside. It’s getting rainier now too, which means that I have entered the Cozy Times. The Cozy Times are like the End Times, in that they both require hunkering down and hoarding food items and eschewing sociability because Going Outside Times are over. I have always been particularly prone to succumbing fully to the Cozy Times, what with my love for reading and blankets and watching the teevee and having good companionship in that dude that seems to be living with me, so I have to make sure I put some things on my calendar here and there so as not to completely submerge for too long. The problem I foresee with this as time goes on is that as we fix up our house more and more, it only feeds the Cozy Times monster. Our house is getting a little bit nicer and so why would we ever leave it again? I am asking.
After a Friday night dinner out with friends (where I ordered a drink called “Bollywood 411” which, I don’t know, cute or ridiculous?), a Saturday at Delium’s house where Nordic Boy inducted everyone into the society of how to install ductwork (get it I said inducted about ducting haaaa), we woke up on Sunday, went out for a quick breakfast (at a place where the waitstaff were Halloween costumed as the 4 ladies from The Golden Girls- our waiter was Dorothy) and then hightailed it home and vowed to not break the homebound coziness seal for the rest of the day. We read, we watched movies, Delium stopped by, I baked, Nordic Boy cooked a delicious three-course Indian dinner, we changed our sheets to flannel, we talked and talked. Why do I need to leave my house again? There’s a world out there to see and experience? And other people? Are you sure? It seems pretty good in here.