i have been to my mans actual home one time. one time. yes you have read that correctly. we do not currently reside in the same city. he has been here several times, we have met on other common ground several times (over the last YEAR!!?? HELLO!!!), but i have only hauled my happy ass out there once. i am going back in just about a month, for just about a week.

i am already redecorating his entire home. not picturing his/hers towels, or someday throwing out that covered wagon coffee table (yes, that ugly, roy rogers one).

i am knocking down walls. i am dreaming up color schemes. i am turning spare bedroom into a walk in closet. i’m picturing the perfect built in to both house the soon to be purchased humungo plasma covered proton beaming flat screen TV and our prodigious collectible collections.I AM IMAGINING THE BEST PLACEMENT FOR FRENCH DOORS FROM THE MASTER SUITE THAT OPEN UP INTO THE BACK YARD.

dear sweet baby jesus. its sick. it is a sickness. i so miss being a homeowner that the mere suggestion of permency sends me completely for a loop.  i have checked out home improvement books from the library. i will drive my man away with my incessant need to gut and refinish everything in my path.