Word.

"This is so awesome!" M3 exclaimed giddily as he stared intently into my eyes, arms wrapped tightly around me, face inches from mine, sporting an ear-to-ear grin that left little doubt in my mind that he had to have been just about the cutest six year old, like, ever.

"This is so awesome!" he repeated. You know, in case I didn't hear the first time.

I imagine his expression wasn't unlike what one might have witnessed on Christmas morning in the M3 household circa '79. And he'd just gotten a puppy. Or a scooter. Or in a more modern-day Noel scenario, someone renewed his subscription to Foreign Affairs. For two years.

No, we're still not living together.

And technically, I still don't even have an apartment.

There has, however, been one rather noteworthy development vis a vis my pursuit of gainful employment. In a bittersweet twist, my effort to bring upon myself a voluntary state of unemployment (albeit a temporary one the duration of which I'd hoped I'd somehow be able to adeptly control) has gone up in flames. Someone offered me a job. And because I still can't seem to locate the whereabouts of my ever-elusive trust fund, I took it.

Thus, sometime next week, provided the stars align just a wee bit, I will be moving to M3's medium-sized city. And two weeks later, I'll be starting a new and by all accounts pretty decidedly kickass job.

So, uh, yeah...

What he said.