1. Waking up in the middle of the night trapped under a heap of blankets and a leg the size of my torso pinning me to the pillow-top. In the moment of groggy panic, I fear for my life, sure that I’ll never be able to break free—that I’m condemned to a slow, sweaty death, like a box of popsicles forgotten on the patio after the fourth of July. Just when I think I’ve stolen my last breath, the fiery mass shifts and releases me. But before his shoulder even touches down on his side of the bed, I’m grabbing onto his scorching skin, pulling him close and falling back into a sticky slumber.

2. An empty Gmail inbox. No one is waiting on me…!

3. A (1) in my Gmail inbox. Someone loves me! Even if it’s only the sales people at Safeway. Which brings me to:

4. Adding coupons to my Safeway card. $1 off Poptarts!

5. When E tells me not to text on the road, even though I know he’s done it, too. Nonchalant as he tries to be, I know he purposely doesn’t text me weekdays between 4 and 4:30 p.m., a.k.a. my evening commute, because he doesn’t want to tempt me to grab the phone. He’ll do whatever he needs to do (or not do) to keep me from getting into an accident, especially for a simple “See you soon!”

6. The first day or two of rain after a streak of shiny, blue skies. Maybe it’s the born-again Northwesterner in me speaking, but anything above a “partly cloudy” forecast feels like a subpoena to spend the day tracing the pavement in my Asics and chasing away a tan line ’til the cicadas announce it’s bedtime—no matter what I actually want to do. When it’s rainy, though, no one raises a brow at the response, “Oh, I stayed under the covers and watched the clock switch from a to p.” Those are the days entire seasons of Mad Men get watched and $40 orders of Chinese food get delivered. They’re the ones that make the other days possible.

7. That slightly buzzed, loopy feeling of too much sun and too little liquid.

8. When Fredo has to stay in Gresham a little longer or go over on a Saturday morning for a couple hours—not because I don’t love spending literally every little bit of time with him, but because then I can freely girl-out, watching Breaking Pointe or blogging or even just trying on different outfits so I’ll have ideas for the workweek (don’t judge! It’s like making a double batch of soup, but for clothes). Plus, the hello kiss when he’s back is the best.

9. The sound of cars whirring down the freeway from a half mile away. The wooshing carries and softens, ending up as what I like to think of as the sound brainwaves would make. Smooth, steady, soothing.