I was a wreck when I got home from work. Work had gone well, as per the usual, but nonetheless, I was not in good shape. I called Darkside all tiny-voiced and silent, and shared a few brief clips of news with him before curling up silent around the phone just listening to his breathing and ambient noise.
He pried most of it out of me, bit by gentle bit, by just being there, listening to me, being himself. We're on a new round of renewals, it looks like. He is enigmatically ever himself, and stress in my life is pouring on, inversely proportional to the stress in his, it seems. The balance has flipped, and he's the strong one again.
I managed to squeak out a stammering declaration of my appreciation and awe every time he divides his leisure time to take care of me. This was recieved with good grace and tenderness.
He had no wise words to offer me for the apprehension of no longer being close enough to the Little Fayoumis to be there as needed, but he was there for me, and for that I was grateful. In lieu of wise words, he offered me smartassed ones after I'd had time to go "Aiiigh!" at him.
Yes, there are many reasons I love this man. One of them is the suggestion he followed up with, about the textbook, and what I could do with it. (Beat myself over the head with it in his absence. Sheesh.)
We giggled together, and he shared silliness from his morning and from his mother's workplace. And a "We'll see..." on the prospect of arranging a regular time for hanging out is the best news on that I've heard all year.
An hour and 10 minutes. It was good to hear his voice. It was good to hear his silences. It was good to spend time together with him.
Somewhat later, a friend of the household showed up: Mr. Shallow, in his remarkably less-shallow alter ego. I got hugs, and he got backrubs. We had a long-necessary conversation, which was followed by both Mr. Shallow and Mr. Not-so-Shallow getting teased by, and then teasing, the Lunatic.
Yesterday was not a good day for me posting on LJ. First I woke up late and crabby, though on time for work. I worked my shift (monitoring, as myself, though Pseudo-Emo Monitor wasn't in so the other new monitor fellow had to substitute for him). I was not quite up to my usual standards of efficiency.
Then I came home and curled up in bed with the phone. After that, Mr. Shallow came over. He stayed until after midnight.
So, not much posting.
Today I'm hyper.
What's the LD50 of iron?
... one frying pan.
Woke up hyper. Have been grinning at entire household with Azzgrin.
The concept of the $BEVERAGE-spraying as an indication of dramatic surprise (humor is the most common, but shock is also notable) is a staple of the conveying of emotion in an online forum.
It also shows up in published literature.
Which pieces of published material can you think of where someone sprays out a mouthful of what they've been drinking (or eating)?
Lois McMaster Bujold's A Civil Campaign shows Commodore Koudelka inadvertently spraying wine across the table in shock and indignation at finding out what, exactly, his daughter has been up to on Beta Colony.
Any others you can think of?