Morning grumps

Without even knowing it he has created a routine for me to get me writing again. To get into a routine for the first time in fact. And he mutters under his breath the whole time about it but that's because he has no idea how I benefit. We wake up at 5:30 and he says "I just got home and I have to go to work again? I need a new job" Every morning. "I need a new job." Every night. "I need a new job." We've been looking. Jobs are hard. This morning we got up, I told him I'd smother him so he'd suffocate and not have to go to work and as he said "do it" he kissed me and we sat up in bed. The streets are orange at that hour. Orange from snow and lights that reflect upon it, orange from left over drunken stumbles and smiles that turned into something else whether pursed lips or scowls. We get in the car and the whole time he grumbles "I need a new job" "is it really that temperature? It must be colder" Both of us bundled in our winter gear, I can't put my arms down, hardly. We park in the lot where I drop him off and he kisses me longer than usual this morning. Longer and slower like if he keeps kissing me he won't have to go to work, like I'm the line that will pull him from the water. I can only hope my existence for him will be that profound. So I kissed him longer and slower, harder, putting all my caring and good hopes into his mouth. I tell him to try to have a good day. He gets out of the car and starts his walk and I think to myself "I could have parked closer" but then if I had, would he have kissed me that way? "home" that's what he called my place. His things are in my car. I know it's hard but he's getting used to the idea, I think. The idea that I might not be the worst, that I might be good, that I might not hurt him the way he's been hurt before that maybe I've been hurt that way too and I know how rude it is to do to someone. I think he's getting used to the idea that I care a whole lot.

so here I am. taking advantage of this opportunity to write and get into a routine. I'm not sure what I want to do with my life ... I keep telling myself I'll tackle that problem later ... social work. I think. I think I know that much. how or when and if now or later is completely beyond me. This is not something I should deal with right now. Maybe tomorrow.