I’m Beyond Saving

My typical weekends last year usually involved a club, a lounge, a cafe, a karaoke (or if I’m on a total bender of a weekend) all of the above…and usually that’s just one night.

Did I mention the river of liquor (usually in scotch form) that flowed this-a-way?

Yeah….crazy nights…

My friends at work loved to hear the insanity they thought my weekends consisted of. I never really understood because I thought my life was normal. Apparently the things that happen to me don’t happen to most people. Who knows? Certainly not me. I just tell stories about my life.
So it’s Sunday today and not just any Sunday. It’s the Man Holiday aka Super Bowl Sunday.

…Yeah, the only reason why I knew that is because Clyde told me and I paid attention to the commercials on the radio.

Lemme tell you about my weekends now.

Friday

MissQTee came over to meet Clyde. We ate Bon Chon chicken that Clyde picked up for me while drinking bekseju and sitting on my imaginary dining furniture. I didn’t have plates yet so we used paper napkins.

She left by 1130 pm. I was asleep by 1 am.

I so rock.

Saturday

I worked all day, bought furniture for the bedroom (omfg w000000t!!!!) and watched a movie with Clyde.

We went to the Landmark in the West Side and had a great time.

We came home by 1 am and decided to stay in. We shared some Macallan and lounged on my imaginary sofa. It was awesome.

We passed out by 2:30 a.m.

Omg.

Sunday

We were up by 9 a.m.

You heard me. IN THE A.M. I was up when the time can still be read in single digits AND the sun was still shining brightly.

I know what you’re thinking. Wtf. Believe me, I’m thinking the same.

But here’s where it gets even more Twilight Zone.

We got up (I realized I love waking up to morning kisses from him) and got coffee at my neighborhood Coffee Bean. The difference between us and 90% of the rest of people getting a cup o’ joe?

We weren’t members of the hung-over and zombified because we’re bright eyed and sober. Score!!!

And then we went to Target.

I went to Target. With my man. I’ve officially become one of “those”.

Single people, as someone who was only recently one of you, you know what I mean. The couples who look happy shoving that red cart around and browsing aisle after mind-numbing aisle of STUFF.

They used to make me sick. I wanted to gag and throw up a little in my mouth whenever I saw them. This was before the Borg known as Cupid shot me in the ass…that sneaky bastard…not that I mind. Oh hell no. ๐Ÿ˜€

So Clyde and I were on a mission. We were going to go out for brunch but opted instead to make breakfast at home.

This means I need a pan and food. He already gave me a bunch of kitchen goodies, silverware, glasses and cocktail tumblers.

We skipped through the store sipping on our coffee. He was like “Omg, baby….we’ve become one of those couples who go to Target together”.

That’s when it hit me. I’ve become domesticated. This man singlehandedly managed to take my aversion of commitment and turn it on its head…and I’m not running away.

As my housewarming present (besides moving large, heavy random crap around for me, swapping out my refridgerator doors around, installing random bits and pieces around my apartment, feeding Barney the Tapeworm delicious food, feeding me coffee, supplying me with pretty glassware and silverware so that I wouldn’t have to eat like a caveman anymore. Sorry, Geico cave-spokesman), Clyde got me a KILLER black/charcoal grey 16 piece dinner set so that I could actually have plates to eat off of, a skillet so that I can actually cook yummy food again and a small pot so that I can boil stuff in case I need to boil water for ramen.

Tell me my man rocks. That’s right. He does.

We came home and I immediately started to put things away (he totally helped me. I adore him) and make my yummy French toast sandwich.

He liked it. I’m happy.

He watched the Super Bowl sitting on my imaginary sofa aka The Floor. I cleaned up in the kitchen and joined him for the rest of the game.

Fyi, I did not make him watch the game in my currently empty apartment. He wanted to. Aaaww…. ๐Ÿ˜€

I’ve become domesticated and you know what? I’m happy. My friends at work (the ones who got married a loooong time ago) cannot believe I no longer go completely nuts on the weekend.

Neither can I….but I like this. Haa haa haa!

๐Ÿ˜€

Sent on the Sprintยฎ Now Network from my BlackBerryยฎ

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Comments
4 Responses to “I’m Beyond Saving”
  1. MM says:

    I still go to Target alone ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

  2. Miss Bonnified says:

    One day, young grasshoppah!

    One day Cupid the Borg will shoot you and yourfuture woman in the buttocks and you guys will go to Target together. ๐Ÿ˜€

  3. Lance says:

    I’m still fighting domestication – tooth and nail. The Girl will win. I know this. I will lose. It is inevitable. The only trace of my old life will be the once-in-a-great-while gaming sessions with the boys … only on Sunday evenings. Between 10pm and midnight.

    Heh.

    Glad you’re happy with yours!

    • Miss Bonnified says:

      Really? Only once in a while? ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

      If you know you’re gonna lose, give in gracefully. This will lessen the sting and you might even start thinking it was your idea all along! ๐Ÿ˜€

      Ahahahaha!!!

      Yes, I’m happy. Yay! ^^

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