This is a good thing, because the one time I tried to do it myself last week I didn't fasten the lid correctly and spilled coffee all over the counter. It was a poderific podaster. Since then, I generally just don't make coffee at home if it's not set up.
What, I'm a software person! Especially in the early morning....
This morning I opened the lid and inspected the innards. Usually he tells me if the pod has been set up, and he hadn't this morning. However the coffee sleeves looked fresh and dry. I poked one. Was it ready to go? I glanced around the counter. Sometimes he leaves notes for me on the backs on envelopes, but I didn't see one.
I sat down at the computer to munch on a breakfast bar while reading email and such. My phone chirped. A text from M: "The pod is all set up for you!" Smiling, I texted back. "Yay, thanks!"
As I emerged from the bathroom shortly after, I noticed that there was a post-it note stuck to the door frame. "Pod is ready to go! xoxo" I blinked at it. I must have walked past it three or four times, once on my way to inspect the actual coffee pod, without seeing it.
"Yes," he explained later that evening, "there was some built-in redundancy in case you missed a message."
This evening on my way home from work, I bought us a little dry-erase board to stick on the refrigerator. Now we'll have a designated place to look for notes from one another, and a fun way to communicate when the other is sleeping.
It's interesting, this living-together thing! We're practically experts at it: it's been eight days now. To be honest though, it still just feels like we're playing house. It doesn't feel real. It startled me upon leaving work this evening, to realize that I was driving yet again to Ypsi. Because I live there now. Weird... but ever-so-lovely, too.