That Novel I’ve Been Working On

Mike and I celebrated our anniversary yesterday, which means I drank a celebratory margarita and ate celebratory chicken across the table from a man who has somehow been happily married for seven years to the sort of person who would change her mind three times about where she wanted to go for dinner, a man who cheerfully and without complaining went online and changed our reservation when I discovered the restaurant we had finally decided on had changed the menu and no longer served blue cheese with their beef tenderloin, a man who never even commented on the fact that I didn’t even ORDER the beef tenderloin with blue cheese when we arrived for dinner at the restaurant I had specifically selected for that very reason.

It was a very good day.   It’s been a good seven years.