metafiction.

white down duvet, no cover. those covers are a bitch to get on, and anyway, I like the look and feel of the bare white comforter anyway. 800-threadcount Egyptian cotton sheets. I don’t ask for much. I sleep (when I sleep) on the side closest to the door. usually sideways across the bed. subconsciously, I suppose, near the door if I have to bolt. don’t make me bolt.

I’m a pretty good cook. I taught myself when I was in Florida last year, taking care of my Dad. I eat pretty healthy, but I can make healthy things that actually taste good. I can also make “good” things, like homemade chicken wings. They take like 2 hours, but — better than takeout. You’ll be watching football, anyway. Which is cool. and I make the best NY cheesecake — plain; dark-chocolate-swirl; and fresh-raspberry-swirl. it’s the only reason my family keeps me around.

I work a lot. that is sometimes relatively-speaking, but you know what I mean. I really like my work. you do too. that’s good. I wouldn’t love you if you didn’t. — so I don’t cook during the week.

I am OCD about cleanliness, but I hate to actually full-on clean. who does. I do it when I can’t afford a cleaning service. I’ll do laundry. I like to do it my way, things folded my way. you can show me your way too, but you get your things dry-cleaned. Which I do as well, mostly.

you, me, we, us. I like the first three. I have been alone so long, an Us sounds stifling. these are important semantics. it’s important to have separate and together lives, and somewhere in the middle, when it makes sense. high-energy, not high-maintenance, despite popular opinion.

routine is important to me. kind of like to an autistic kid. I don’t foist my habits and rituals, I just ask that they be respected for what they are —soothing predictability, in small ways. ritual is a nice idea. I had been forced to do Sunday Breakfast — but I Hate breakfast food, and then I would get yelled at for ordering a bowl of grapes. so don’t do that, please. brunch is much more civilized. plus they have regular food. and mimosas. I like Thursday happy hour, too.

I need my space. literally, and so do you. I have a hard time with sharing some things; not selfishly, just fetish-ly. probably comes from growing up in a house of seven.

I don’t like to fight. I get really upset and freak out. some might say, abandonment issues from my parents’ divorce, the most devastating thing that ever happened to us, ever. “fights” can be better framed as serious discussions. hope you do that.

I like to listen to music. a lot. and I like to listen to it alone and together. I listen to all kinds of music. it’s fun to sing when you like the same song. even though I sing off-tune. I used to be a first soprano. must be the cigarettes.

I don’t watch much television. I never have. I like one show I DVR and watch ad nauseum. I like to watch some Netflix series. usually the dark dramas. I’m really picky about movies — I prefer non-fiction/documentaries. but — the television — I didn’t even have one until I got married. next topic.

don’t know how I feel about marriage. I am married — but not married. so what’s the point of that? ending that shit sooooon. it’s over, for all intents and purposes anyway; never really was. I fall into the camp of, until everyone can get married if they want to, then, be a hold-out. then again, the practicalities — legal, medical — are important. but you can probably get through those legally. if I love you, which I do, is it important to be married? if it is to you, it is to me.

my cats are my world. they are my peeps. I talk to them, I love them, and they love me back. I saved them, I am their mother. Boom and Sheldon. you don’t have to love them if you don’t actually love them for them, but — don’t mistreat them. I know you won’t, anyway. but people have. that makes me very angry. very.

going to end here, without dissecting what metafiction is, or what this metafiction is. you can decide that for yourself.