Well, I’ve made it through my first week on the new job.  I love it.  I’m still the new/lost guy… but I’ve learned a lot already.  It’ll just be a matter of time before I’m up to speed with the other folks on the team.

Yesterday evening, I had a maintenance call I had to get on at 6 pm.  It only took about five minutes to complete the job.  I had to change the network connection speeds on four servers, but the customer wanted to do it after-hours.  Since I’m the new guy, I volunteered to do it.

When I got home, I talked to Jules for a little while.  She had been asleep on the couch prior to me walking in.  I did most of the talking.  When she’s tired, most of her communication is carried out via grunt/whimper and pointing at things she wants.

As 6:00 approached, I went to get my laptop.  I pointed out that it’s pretty satisfying to have a job where I can sit on my couch in comfy pants, covered up with a blanket, and work.  With that, I said, “I need to go put my comfy pants on before I start on this.  You know… priorities.”

She looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, then wrinkled her forehead, looked up at me, and said, “Can I be a priority?”

I swear to God, she’s so freakin’ adorable.

“Of course you can, sweetheart,” I responded.  As I settled in on the couch and got ready to dial into the conference call, she cozied up next to me, still wrapped in her blanket.

“I’m a priority,” she informed me proudly, smiling from ear-to-ear.

She went into the kitchen to cook dinner while I did my five minutes worth of work.  She turned her music on and started singing.  I just listened to her and smiled.  We’ve been together for a year and a half… and I still find her antics unbelievably cute.  She sang away while I worked together with the network guy on the phone.  When we were done, I hung up, documented what I did, and went in to join her.

“What’cha doin’?” she asked me.

“I came in here to see you… because you’re a priority.”

She smiled proudly.

One thing about girls is that they don’t forget much.  Jules has become quite proud of her “priority” status.  This evening we went out to Buffalo Wild Wings for dinner (delicious, by the way), and we were talking about what we were going to do when we got home.  She asked if we could play a game or something… like Scattergories.  Then she added, “You should play with me because I’m a priority.”

On the way home, she randomly said to me, “We should go shopping!”

“Where do you want to go?” I asked.

She just smiled her million-dollar smile and said, “That makes me happy.  Most guys would complain if their girlfriend wanted to drag them out shopping.  You, however, like to please me.”

“…And I think that’s good,” she added smugly.

I can’t lie.  I do love seeing her happy.  And you know why?

Because she’s a priority.