I am a klutz. I trip over nothing. I spill red wine every time I have a glass. I lean against walls that are not there and then fall into my bathroom. So why am I surprised when the Engineer starts kissing me, which is lovely because we have been dating for a while now and passion isn't our forte at the moment, that I feel a tickle at my nose. His chin hair? No, he's Chinese. He has no facial hair.
I had a booger hanging out of my nose. A booger hanging out of my nose! GAH! A year ago I would have died of shame, now I just brush it away and reach for a kleenex. And he still is willing to kiss me.
Which I guess is what is supposed to happen when you really love someone. We have fallen into the comfort zone of true love. No more are the days of butterflies and secret emails that make your day. Now the only emails say, "pick up milk on your way home", and butterflies have turned into farts and boogers in the nose. How could I have let this happen? I was such a sweet dainty female before. Now I wash my face and put on those old flannels before bed.
I can't make-out after dinner because I am bloated. Cramps rule my life a week out of each month. And no longer do I wear cute little outfits around my house, rather a baggy pair of yoga pants and my sports bra.
On one level, I feel terrible and sad that I am letting myself go. On the other I am happy that I am so comfortable around the Engineer that if I have the stomach flu I no longer run to the Starbucks downstairs.
But maybe tonight, I will forgo the cotton PJ's for my silky ones. And I'll blow my nose