quitting.

Boyfriend and I were cuddled up on our perfect couch: him sitting as one would in a chair, with me laying across his lap resting my head on his shoulder. We were watching some terrible DIY network show (as I am akin to making him do with me) and he tapped me on the should twice (our less obnoxious way of saying "hey I need to get up and you are in the way"). I looked up at him and he said he was going to go have a cigarette (we are both in the middle of quit-fest). "Why?" was the only response I could muster, not only was I trying to be helpful in the quitting process... I was really comfortable and if he got up we might never find this perfect body placement again. He thought about it for a moment then relaxed back into the couch. Brilliant. Quit-fest, cuddle-party wynn.

Sort of a low-key dream. It made me happy though.