pack bags, call cabs, hurry home to me

A couple of weeks ago I told Boyfriend's mom about how much I liked the plasticware they have at Chipotle. I like it enough to always steal some and use it as my silverware, because I can just throw it out and it lasts a while, too. As I told her my story, she walked over to her silverware drawer and emptied it into a bag, then walked to me and shoved it in my face. "Here," she said.

She has taken to giving me lots of things that are way beyond my ability to purchase, like extremely nice gazillion thread count sheets and throws that look bizarre on a bed as cheap as mine- one without a frame, for starters.

The sheets smell just like Boyfriend, who has been away for the week. I thought I was cool with him being gone for a while, but last night I woke up humping a Boyfriend-smelling pillow.

It is time for him to come home.