Ed has gone back to work, but because his new employer has a fairly strict social media policy, all I can say is that he is “in grocery store management.” Today, he’s actually working in a building without AC installing shelves, dairy cases, check out stands, and the like, which is CRAZY in July in Houston, but they didn’t ask me. His store opens on August 21st. (Any guesses Houstonians?)
I’m happy Ed’s working again and I know he is, too. He enjoyed having a little time off, but I think having too much time on his hands was getting old. For my part, it was nice to phone in honey-do (OR ELSE) lists from work every day, but, honestly I’m a little OCD. No matter how hard Ed tried, and he did try, he could never do things the way I would do them myself. I can be just a tad bit obsessive about how clean the house is and, well, it’s just not clean enough for me right now. As much as I griped over the last few months about the fact that I didn’t think I should have to do housework while Ed was home all day, I’m actually looking forward to getting my freaky, super-clean on again. Look out dust bunnies. I’m coming for you!
Ed going back to work means a big change for Rupert. He hasn’t ever had to stay home alone all day. Ed’s always been there with him. Rupert doesn’t like to be alone, but he’s going to have to get used to it. Ru doesn’t sleep in his kennel. He sleeps under the covers in our bed. Thankfully, he’s started to use the kennel as a “safe zone,” especially when he’s home alone. It’s where he hides his bones, toys, and other “found” treasures, like underwear, socks, shoes, t-shirts, and gross stuff he pulls out of the toilet trash can. The number of personal items in Rupert’s kennel belonging to either Ed or me corresponds directly to how long he’s been left alone. It turns out Rupert is a hoarder, not one of those messy, doesn’t know what he has hoarders, but one of the organized, don’t throw that paperclip from 1962 away or I WILL KNOW IT’S GONE, hoarders. Rupert, quirky little thing that he is, is very particular about the order and arrangement of his belongings. In a nightly ritual, he pulls his blankets and loot out of the kennel and then spends a considerable amount of time rearranging everything in some special order known only to him. A word of caution: Don’t jack with Rupert’s carefully curated collection! Once it’s in the kennel, it’s his! I nearly lost a finger last night attempting to retrieve a pair of crotchless panties. (For the record, until yesterday, I did not own crotchless panties.)
Change is almost always difficult, even good change. I definitely consider both Ed and I being employed a good change. Before you know it, Ed will be used to his new job. Rupert will be used to staying alone a whole lot more and I will be used to wearing crotchless panties.