Okay, no more inserts in my diary of sad stories about dying children from books I�m currently reading. I promise.

Every one of my co-workers who�ve come through the door this morning has answered my standard, but heartfelt, �Good morning,� greeting with some form of a TGIF. If it isn�t the actual, �Thank God it�s Friday,� it�s, �Yay! It�s Friday!� Or, �I�m so glad it�s Friday.� Or even, �Aren�t you glad it�s Friday?�

Well, the truth is� no, not really. I�m not all that glad it�s Friday. Not so much. Why, you ask? Non and I are going camping again this weekend -- with the 4th-6th graders. Granted, I don�t anticipate as much backtalk like the teenagers gave us during the last camp experience, but it�s still a Jewish camp, and I�m still not Jewish. I often feel awkward and, honestly, a little ostracized, simply because I don�t know all that much about Judaism yet. I am, however, enrolled in an Intro to Judaism class that starts in a couple weeks. I�m not converting or anything, I�d just like to know the basics about the religion that Non has grown up with and is still heavily involved in to this day. As far as camp goes, I certainly don�t lie to the kids and pretend, or outright say, I�m Jewish, but I don�t necessarily get in the cabin, sit them all down, and say, �Hi. I�m Minired, and I�m a Gentile,� either. When I�m there, though, I can�t seem to shake the feeling that because the kids assume I�m Jewish, I�m somehow deceiving them all by my inherent Gentile-ness.

Okay, okay. I�ll fess up. Another reason I�m a bit of a stick in the mud about camping this weekend is because I won�t get to sleep in tomorrow or Sunday. Naps are nice and all (though it�s iffy at best on whether or not I�ll get one of those this weekend either), but they�re just not the same as sleeping in. When I�m not getting a solid eight hours of sleep every night (and it�s been a long time since I made an effort to do that on a daily basis), I count on getting to sleep in at least one day a week. It sort of makes up for the other six days when I don�t get quite enough sleep, you know? Am I the only one with that theory?

Oh, well. It�s only one weekend. I�ll just have to suck it up.

The newest Floyd news: I think he�s doing drugs of some sort. I�ve noticed that every morning when he gets here, he immediately goes to the bathroom. He doesn�t even set down his backpack/briefcase-y bag first � in fact, he takes it into the bathroom with him (which only furthers my suspicion). I�ve witnessed this behavior more than a handful of times, and this morning he was sniffing a bunch when he came back in. And now that I think about it, he blows his nose a lot. I mean, like, every day, a few times a day. I don�t know anything about drug use. I�ve never done a drug in my life � watching my brother�s steady decline from casual marijuana user to full-fledged heroin addict has effectively squelched any curiosity I might�ve had about drugs. But from what I�ve seen, Floyd seems to have some symptoms of some sort of sniffing drug user. The only drug I know people sniff for sure is cocaine, right? So, that must be it: Floyd�s a cokehead.

I could be wrong. Maybe he just has sinus issues that especially plague him every morning around 8:30am. I�m just sayin��

Of course, doesn�t cocaine make you really jumpy? Or is that speed? Floyd has never been what I�d call jumpy. Languid, yes, but jumpy, no.

We had some friends over last night for dinner � another couple and a single girlfriend of mine. It was originally just going to be my girlfriend, but Non and I went to a meeting after work in preparation for camp this weekend, and some friends of ours were talking about getting something to eat afterward, and, well� all of a sudden, we were all in our living room eating some really yummy barbeque sandwiches from a place called Armadillo Willy�s.

I had a really good time with everyone, but I sort of felt badly for my lone girlfriend. She didn�t know the other couple, and once they arrived, we ended up discussing a lot of couple-y things: each other�s sleeping habits, differences between each partner�s daily habits, our television-watching quirks and preferences, etc. As entertaining as it was, I kept trying to steer the conversation back to something a little more neutral. At the end of the night, I thanked my girlfriend for coming, and I sort of apologized that the evening wasn�t what she�d originally expected. She was sweet, and she poo-pooed my apology saying, �I had a great time.� But I know what it�s like to be a fifth wheel (or any other odd-numbered wheel for that matter), and I just hope she wasn�t uncomfortable.

I�m so used to thinking like a single person, that it�s still a little strange to be part of the couple who invites a single friend over, rather than being the single friend invited over by a couple. But, I like it. �Ah lahk it a laht.�

In fact, last night as I was falling asleep, I was thinking about how much I enjoy this coupledom. I have such an overwhelming sense of relief knowing that I�ve finally found someone to be with who wants to be with me. No more dating fiascoes to dread. No more worrying about first impressions. No more wondering if he�s going to call or not.

But mostly, I�m not just in awe of the fact that I found someone, but that the someone is Non. To call myself �blessed� or �lucky� feels like an immense understatement. This man that chooses to falls asleep mere inches from me every night is intelligent and kind; he�s thoughtful and talented; he�s forthright and good-hearted; he�s resourceful and artistic; he�s witty and entertaining; he�s caring and steadfast. He constantly tells me that he loves me, he continually reiterates that I�m beautiful, he tells me what he�s thinking immediately rather than brooding or making me guess, he knows me well and remembers intimate details that I�ve forgotten I even told him. He makes me happy.

He�s my Non, and I'm giddy just thinking about him.