The Return To Innocence

While Adam had been in the city, his work van had been broken into. His laptop bag was stolen.
*grinds teeth, keeps mouth shut about this fucking city*
He can get another laptop, other network cables and tools. But there were other things in that bag that were irreplaceable.

We're going to make dinner now. I can't fume properly on an empty stomach.

While Adam had been in the city, his work van had been broken into. His laptop bag was stolen.
*grinds teeth, keeps mouth shut about this fucking city*
He can get another laptop, other network cables and tools. But there were other things in that bag that were irreplaceable.

We're going to make dinner now. I can't fume properly on an empty stomach.

There is something about waking up with your spouse at 5:30 in the morning and carpooling into downtown Washington DC that either brings the two of you closer together or makes you both really hate 5:30 in the morning.
However, it saves time when carpooling into downtown DC.
Don't ask about the traffic. Washington, DC needs overhead signs on the roads that proclaim, "Caution: Stupidity Ahead."
Since Saturday and until Tuesday, there is a Girl Scouts conference deal happening at the Washington Hilton (also somewhat affectionately known as the Hinckley Hilton). Adam's company was hired to rent out and supply a bunch of printers and corresponding equipment. Not computers, just printers. Adam's company rents out and occasionally sells afforable computer services (conveniently enough, it's in the name), including desktops, laptops, parts, software, hardware, etc; as well as equipment like printers. Adam has become skilled at lifting and carrying 500-pound printers.Not easy, but doable. I admire him for that. Adam is one of the IT Project Managers as well as the head field technician. He gets tapped for travel a lot, hence always going around the country when important people want to hold conferences -- like, say, the White House, or the Pentagon.
But this time? Printers. For Girl Scout corporate meetings. We laugh, and he gets up at 5:30 to leave the house at 6:00 to be at the hotel at 7:00 to set up printers. His arms and legs ache.
I went with him because I work across the street from the Gallery Place metro station, which is a five-minute ride from the Dupont Circle station, which is a few blocks away from the Hilton. Besides, getting there an hour and a half early means I have time to eat breakfast and chill out before putting on my law firm library assistant hat. Which is what happened. He gets to leave at 4:00. I get off work at 4:30, so we'll work something out so we can carpool home. Afteroon rush out of DC is a psychotic bitch. Whoever decided to restrict an entire useable lane of traffic just for HOV during the busiest hours must have been on crack.

Now my arms and legs ache from running around the office, but I have a much lower pain tolerence than my husband, who is sometimes superhuman. Also, I have cerebral palsy and unspecified achy burny chronic pain, so ow and ow and ow again.

However, the Hilton is pretty. And well decorated. And intelligent-looking. Unlike the young lady who will soon inherit the vast fortune. Ah ha ha ha. (she's locked up in jail and she still won't go away, why why why?)

The snow fell in earnest last night, tumbling quietly like tiny dancers and blanketing the streets with a bare dust of ivory. It was still falling this morning. There is still barely a few inches. It's funny, how people act and react to environmental changes, depending on where they are and what they are like. My bus was late this morning, due to traffic. The Shady Grove Metro station platform was packed with people, and when the train arrived everyone scrambled on as if their lives depended on it. I calmly walked in, found a "disabled" seat near the doors since my knees were screaming in pain, and leaned against the plexiglass wall, watching the human flow.
I nodded off shortly after the train began to move. This happens often. I get lulled into a nap. My stop, Gallery Place Metro, is a thirty-five minute ride, not counting stalling and stopping and waiting. My brain and body have timed the naps to thirty minutes, so I wake up in time. I awoke at the Metro Center stop. The train was violently overcrowded, and more people were shoving in, with no room to move. When the train moved on and stopped at Gallery Place a minute later, I stood up with several others, and the jostling began. As I stepped off the train, it was like the parting of the Red Sea. I have not seen so many people on the platform that early in the morning. I had already left my boss a message during my delayed bus ride, so he knew I'd be in late. I was half an hour late, coming in at nine.
I came back from my lunch hour at one. My boss, Ray, just left for his. He told me the federal government is closing at two. Our law firm follows the government's snow day policy as far as being closed along with it, or open along with it. On early mornings when it is snowing, we have to check the status at opm.gov; if the government is closed, our office is closed. If the government closes down after nine in the morning, it is anyone's guess at our office. We may or may not go home early. Ray wants to try and send me home early; he wants me to avoid the rush and be safe.

I am drenching my hands in pure camellia oil, and GreenFireHerbs.com's Healing Bath Oil, in an attempt to stave off severe dryness, flaking, itching, and eczema. My little humidifier is going strong. To protect and soften my dry lips, I am wearing the mocha flavored Hemp Lip Balm from FaerieMadeSoaps.com, and over that is DuWop's Shades Of Venom lipstick in Belladolla, which is a subtle cranberry red with oils of jojoba, squalane, avocado, and sunflower, plus cinnamon, ginger and wintermint. On my face is AnnaBellina.com's PS Silk hydrator, BunnysBath.com's Face Cream, and RaesinImages.com's moisturizing mineral cream foundation (Neutral N1 color). I am so drenched in moisture I should be swimming.

This morning demonstrated to me the passionate intensity a couple can have without making love. I woke up at seven, and reset the alarm for eight, for Adam. As I was getting dressed, pulling on stockings to layer my legs, and thick socks, my sleepy husband reached for me and ran his hands up and down my sides, my hips, my thighs; with just enough pressure to generate flaring heat. He often makes these little, deep, kittenish sighs that let me know he is emotionally aroused as well as physically, needing to touch his wife, needing to show her how much he loves and desires her. After I finished getting dressed, I lay in his arm with my head on his chest and tickled his neck and jaw with kisses, because I had to get him back somehow. When I left the house at seven-thirty, there was a light bounce in my step and a smile on my face.

The snow fell in earnest last night, tumbling quietly like tiny dancers and blanketing the streets with a bare dust of ivory. It was still falling this morning. There is still barely a few inches. It's funny, how people act and react to environmental changes, depending on where they are and what they are like. My bus was late this morning, due to traffic. The Shady Grove Metro station platform was packed with people, and when the train arrived everyone scrambled on as if their lives depended on it. I calmly walked in, found a "disabled" seat near the doors since my knees were screaming in pain, and leaned against the plexiglass wall, watching the human flow.
I nodded off shortly after the train began to move. This happens often. I get lulled into a nap. My stop, Gallery Place Metro, is a thirty-five minute ride, not counting stalling and stopping and waiting. My brain and body have timed the naps to thirty minutes, so I wake up in time. I awoke at the Metro Center stop. The train was violently overcrowded, and more people were shoving in, with no room to move. When the train moved on and stopped at Gallery Place a minute later, I stood up with several others, and the jostling began. As I stepped off the train, it was like the parting of the Red Sea. I have not seen so many people on the platform that early in the morning. I had already left my boss a message during my delayed bus ride, so he knew I'd be in late. I was half an hour late, coming in at nine.
I came back from my lunch hour at one. My boss, Ray, just left for his. He told me the federal government is closing at two. Our law firm follows the government's snow day policy as far as being closed along with it, or open along with it. On early mornings when it is snowing, we have to check the status at opm.gov; if the government is closed, our office is closed. If the government closes down after nine in the morning, it is anyone's guess at our office. We may or may not go home early. Ray wants to try and send me home early; he wants me to avoid the rush and be safe.

I am drenching my hands in pure camellia oil, and GreenFireHerbs.com's Healing Bath Oil, in an attempt to stave off severe dryness, flaking, itching, and eczema. My little humidifier is going strong. To protect and soften my dry lips, I am wearing the mocha flavored Hemp Lip Balm from FaerieMadeSoaps.com, and over that is DuWop's Shades Of Venom lipstick in Belladolla, which is a subtle cranberry red with oils of jojoba, squalane, avocado, and sunflower, plus cinnamon, ginger and wintermint. On my face is AnnaBellina.com's PS Silk hydrator, BunnysBath.com's Face Cream, and RaesinImages.com's moisturizing mineral cream foundation (Neutral N1 color). I am so drenched in moisture I should be swimming.

This morning demonstrated to me the passionate intensity a couple can have without making love. I woke up at seven, and reset the alarm for eight, for Adam. As I was getting dressed, pulling on stockings to layer my legs, and thick socks, my sleepy husband reached for me and ran his hands up and down my sides, my hips, my thighs; with just enough pressure to generate flaring heat. He often makes these little, deep, kittenish sighs that let me know he is emotionally aroused as well as physically, needing to touch his wife, needing to show her how much he loves and desires her. After I finished getting dressed, I lay in his arm with my head on his chest and tickled his neck and jaw with kisses, because I had to get him back somehow. When I left the house at seven-thirty, there was a light bounce in my step and a smile on my face.