We didn’t have sex on a big pile of money last night.
“We’ll rip it,” the Collector said, his brow furrowing in concern. We decided to push all the money into a big pile on the bed and then do it next to the pile which we could reach out and rumple with our hands if we wanted to.
We got paid! We’ve been hosting a few blueberry rakers and they finally got paid so we finally got paid. Huzzah!
It’s been wonderful having guests, but also incredibly challenging. All of my seclusionary spaces are filled with bodies, which means I have no place to run to anymore for rest or solitude. But, it’s a good feeling having our property burst and bustle with new cooking smells and unfamiliar sounds and voices.
Hosting so many people can be quite stressful. I worry about bed bugs, because my mom tells me to. I worry about the stack of garbage bags outside the garage, because the presence of a rat in the basement tells me to. I worry about my lack of personal space, because my insides tell me to.
Beyond the harbored concerns, though, there’s the pleasure of meeting new people and sharing food and our home with them.
And even more than that, there’s the good old-fashioned pleasure of putting my hand on that pile of bills while my boyfriend nails me. Ah, yes.