All Change

As Fur set out to start his new job this morning, I found myself alone for the first day in some time.
Before he left his previous (bastard) employer, he, like I, worked mainly from home and we had both become accustomed to one another's company day in and day out.
As some form of routine is inevitably returning after the holidays, I feel relieved though a tad melancholy at the same time.
All those late nights watching blood thirsty dvds until the small hours, swigging anything from Vimto and cranberry juice, to spiked tumblers containing Christmas presents of rum to ourselves will be restricted to the weekend from hereon. My liver was first to thank me for that.
We knew yesterday, as we both had to get up at an ungodly hour, that an early night was a must and duly crashed out at a half decent time, a faithful nightmare inducing sleeping pill my only hope.
As I staggered out of bed this morning, relieved that it they were indeed only dreams, the house seemed empty, though I felt for the first time in a while that things have finally started to move in a positive direction again, that we got through the bad stuff in the end fairly unscathed; bruised egos matter less when change kicks in.
I've also been able to play the B52s at an obscene level for most of the afternoon whilst I aspire to make the best roast potatoes in the universe, amongst other things on Fur's favourites list.