Hey-la day-la my boyfriend's back

Did I mention that B's back? No? Well he is. After spending the entire summer up in New England teaching tennis and making mad dough to spend on me, B is finally home for good. Which I guess means my summer of obsessive compulsive behavior brought on by living by myself is officially over.

What kind of obsessive compulsive behavior? Maybe like getting up at least three times each night to make sure the chain lock was securely fastened on my front door even though if someone really did want to break in to dismember me I doubt that chain hanging on to the dilapidated piece of door would be much of a deterrent. Especially if he weighed anything over 65 pounds. And had knives. Or a baseball bat. Or salad fingers.

Or having in depth dinner conversations with my dog on the occasions when I didn't invite myself (and my dog) over to other people's houses for an evening meal.

Or the whole startling increased obsession with America's Funniest Home Video montages. It's like hypnosis. With fat old women who break porch swings and babies who whack their dads in the crotch with whiffle ball bats and dogs who climb trees and all those people who fall. Oh, you crazy 1990s people.

But all that's over now. Except maybe the America's Funniest Home Videos part. That show is like crack.

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