livin' on love

Sam and I, we're livin on love.


And that's pretty much it.


Every morning, I roll out of bed with a glare reserved especially for Ring Tone 5: Mueva, which wakes me up so rudely at 6:30.


Sam the perfect slumberer slumbers on.


Then, he falls out of bed at 7ish when his alarm goes off, or when I wake him with a few kisses and a "by the way, since we're here chatting at this obscenely early hour, did you happen to realize we're leaving in 15 minutes?" And then leave lickety split before the huge groan and his fair share of I-just-woke-up glares {everyone is entitled to early morning glares. it's a basic human right}.


Then we're packed and deoderized and brushed and cold lunched after Sam makes me turn off every light in the lovenest {part of his Get Brooke To Turn Off A Light For Once In Her Life Campaign (tm) (contributions accepted.)}. You should see him standing by the door and saying in his very best father voice "now Brooke, what do we do every day before we leave the lovenest?"


Then, we spend all day apart from each other on campus, working and schooling and working some more, with only the occasional text to get us through the day.


Sampling of actual texts, as retrieved from my not-so-smart phone:


"Something's wrong with my bowels."
"Just said hi to Elder Groberg, who I already met before. 50 points. Now, where should I pick you up at 4:45?"
"I love you."
"I just got yelled at by an angry mom. Dear me she was upset."




After we have suffered an acceptable amount of time {usually 5 or 6pm}, we go home. Then, we make dinner and consume it voraciously. I cook, he cleans. He definitely has the short end of the stick, but hasn't realized it yet, bless his dishwashing soul.


Then, we do homework. Separately. You see, his computer broke {see next paragraph for broken computer rant}, so he goes upstairs to use the computer there. I stay downstairs because #1 it is ALWAYS freezing up there, and #2 the recliner I sit in up there lends itself to nothing but a careful examination of one's own legs and constant questioning to the husband of "how much longer till we can go back downstairs?" So, we homework separately.


*computer rant, as promised: His laptop broke. Boom. Gone. Showing a weird screen. It even made a noise like this "gxgxgxgxgxgxgxgxg." I would like to go to the IT office personally and make a big deal about quality products! and we payed five whole dollars this semester so Sam could rent this computer! And didn't your boss tell you about the new Broke Student Discount in which you will now buy Sam a macbook for free? And be quick about it?


Speaking of broken things, my glasses broke. Snapped right in half, bless them. They'd been serving me faithfully for 6 years, so I guess it was their time to go. We made a huge deal about taping them back together, and saying lots of Harry Potter jokes {those are obligatory at a time like that}. All of a sudden our laughter went to visit some other broke married couple and we just sort of looked at each other.


"How much do new glasses cost?" asked my perfect husband with perfect vision.


And he was so cute standing there with no idea about three digit figures that I didn't have the heart to tell him.


Anyway, back to my thesis statement about living on love.


We don't have money. We don't have time. We don't have glasses or computers or other things we need.


But it's okay, because we have kisses to wake each other up, and text messaging, and dinnertime together, and taking out the garbage to sneak in an act of service, and budgeting sheets to scrape together money for my new corrective lenses so my eyes don't sting from wearing contacts all day.


Just being together is enough.


Sam and I are livin' on love.