Cold Open. in Open Diary.

I drink too much. I hate it. I fucking hate it. If you shame an alcoholic, you can go to fucking hell.

Sigh.

I made myself some pizza out of some donated bread. I am quite resourceful. Cut some bread in two, slather some sauce, some cheese, and some condiments, and you are golden. Good stuff.

I’m pretty good at making dinner. Usually protein, carbs, and vegetables. Think, breaded chicken, stuffing, and green beans. Even a burger and refried beans hits the marks. Not that one needs to devour meat to acquire protein.

Held Wife today. Her eyes were so tired. So tired. Tried some foreplay, and then asked for her consent for me to give her cunnilngus. She said:

“I guess so.”

I told her:

“I guess means maybe, maybe might mean no.”

So we cuddled. Because I have made mistakes, but I’m not a shithead like that. Respect consent, you goddamned motherfuckering assholes. Respect consent and stop making men look bad. So simple.

AHEM. So simple.

I held her tender head against my chest while she talked. Communication is important. Talked about her. Her mom. About daughter. About us. About life.

Life.

Her eyes were so heavy with exhaustion when we went to the couch to watch Star Trek. Still, it was nice to see her laugh, smile, and us pause occasionally to discuss things.

.....

Live long, and eat your goddamned oatmeal.