It’s one of those nights. Shannon is watching one of his movies that I just don’t have the will to follow. Lucy is going back and forth from the sofa to the desk in order to milk as much attention as she can from the two of us. And I’m paying bills and fielding car-insurance quotes.
Not a bad night, all in all. God knows I’ve had many that were worse.
I’ve learned that routine is good. It’s about as powerful as an anti-depressant to keep psychological demons at bay. Something about a quiet evening at home with neither of us doing much of anything is some how comforting.
I guess because it means that nothing’s changed. For better or for worse.
We have become a boring old couple, me and Shannon. The high point of our last 7 days was going to our favorite Vietnamese/Thai restaurant downtown. We had Tom Kah, a luscious soup with white curry and coconut milk served in a fire pot that you don’t want to reach across unless you want your shirt set on fire, too.
Otherwise, life keeps churning along like a riverboat going upstream on the Mississippi. It always takes effort to keep it going, but when the current’s right, the trip is delightful.
And so it goes for old man Shannon, old man me and old man river. We just keep rolling along.
Not the worst way to spend an evening, is it now?
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