Let's Date Again

I've got a third date tonight. And you know what that means. 6:30 wake-up call for two hours to shave, pluck, do the dishes, change the sheets, and generally tidy up. I gave myself a manicure in the tub at about 6:50 in the a.m. No kidding.

New lovers are lots of work. Though satisfying and gratifying too. Like babies, I suppose, their cuteness needs to be high to get through the initial work - in this case the "My jesus, how long has that monstrous pile of crap been there? When did *that* hair show up?" scramble to feel presentable.

It’s a good reminder to appreciate that the Beard doesn’t care if I’m stubble-scratchy or haven’t washed the sheets in a few weeks.

I don’t know S. well enough to know if she cares about those things. But I do know that I care about how I might be reflected back. Being well-scrubbed just seems a respectful way to present your body and home to someone who hasn’t had much to do with either.

Let’s just hope I can stay awake for the lovin’.