But am I happy?
Carrying the coffee table down Montague Street with Tom, I was not happy. Later, when he fixed the wobbliness and we confirmed that I had indeed purchased a splendid table for such a low price, I was filled with joy.
Then Tom left town for two days and I did what I often do when blessed with an opportunity for productive solitude: eat, spend money, stay up late, eat, spend more money, rearrange the furniture.
I made a big dent in the choco raisins. The leopard skirt is too tight. The novel is depressing. I need a cigarette, even though I don't smoke. Thinking about switching the end tables. Forgot about my O magazine. Joy! Tom will be home in 17 more hours. Sure hope the money holds out.