That One Time I Was A Cougar

I was coming home after a long business trip. In sales, you're always on the road. So much so, that hotels lose their thrill and you long for the comfort and familiarity of home. A colleague, Martin, and I were almost there when he asked me to stop the car and just drop him off where we were. I pull the car over to the berm and let him out right there on the highway. He crosses the median and walks up to this big, white building. I think to myself, "What the !?! You know what? Not my problem", step on the gas and keep moving.

When I get to the rental car place, Martin is already there and he's getting strapped into a floaty vest and onto a row boat. I race to the boat because it's the only way to get across the water. But still, it pulls off without me. Martin's dragged underneath when suddenly, he jumps up like a dolphin grinning and spitting water from his mouth!

Low tide comes in and I decide that I'd rather walk across the damp sand than wait for another boat. I get to the dock and walk through a functioning warehoue. Right on the other side is the house I live in. I don't own this house; I'm a boarder. You would think that living in someone's basement would suck but this one is mysteriuosly well-lit and infused with yellow. Yellow walls, yellow knick-knacks, even yellow daisies. It's oddly warm and inviting for such a small space. But all I can think is that being a boarder totally rocks. I can go away for days and not worry because my house is never really empty.

Exhausted, I shuffle to the fridge and open it to find only soy milk (yum!) and grape kool-aid (?). There's only one person that drinks these two in tandem. Taylor Lautner.

He stands there with his big, brown eyes and tells me that he missed me so much that he stayed in my place while I was gone. I lean up on my toes, wrap my arms around his neck and as he leans towards me with smiling lips and knowing eyes...

waking up is a bitch.