It’s been a bit of an emotional time for me recently. I’m still reeling from my company going under, and trying to sort out the freelancing rollercoaster, and Harold’s been offered an exciting and awesome new job, but it’s in another city. Because of course it is. We also took two trips in rapid succession, to my Massachusetts family and Harold’s Kansas family, which was awesome, but still gave me a lot of feelings. Anyway, I’m having a lot of feelings right now.
So the other day, when Harold and I came into his building, it seemed extremely important that we make out, immediately, and it could not possibly wait until we walked all the way up to his apartment, it had to happen right there in the hallway. (It may be worth noting that I’m in my early 30s and Harold is closer to 40.) We heard someone on the stairs, and stopped kissing and jumped apart guiltily.
“I wasn’t spying!” his landlord said, who was just coming out of his apartment like a normal person on a normal afternoon. “But did I hear you’re getting married?”
“Yes. Yes, we are!”