So I made dinner for Bill last night and it actually turned out fairly well. Who knew?
What I liked about cooking (and the clean up afterwards) is that it was a project with specific steps and a definitive beginning and end. And I get to follow directions and cross things off a list? What's not to like?
Needless to say, Bill really liked it. Sure, he isn't the best at expressing himself, but he knows it and he tries pretty hard. It was cute.
I stayed last night and this morning was a rude awakening. I'm not used to human interaction before I take a shower and put on my makeup on a weekday morning, so that part was a bit rocky. He sent me an email today about how chipper I was.
What does he expect when he turns on a light in the pitch dark without warning me? That I'm going to shit rainbows?