One thing I've always been thankful for about my apartment -- it has great water pressure. My last apartment had such old pipes the water came out in a dismal drizzle. And some landlords like to put on those pressure gauges, so the water pressure is so low, you can't get a decent spray. Not so this shower. The water pours over me, warm and wet and --- yeah, cozy. Like a wet blanket. Trying to get me out of a shower is like forcing me out of bed. I love the warmth and comfort of my comforter, and the same goes for my shower.

When you get out of bed the morning gives a brutal cold greeting, but at least there's the safe haven of the hot shower. Alas, after a shower, there's only the cold reality of the real world out there. There was nothing to do but towel off, dress, dry, and venture. One thing about living alone. You don't have to worry about anyone walkinâ in on you....

*****Calm. Just stay calm, I tell myself. This is not a federal case. This is not the end of the world. It's not even a boil on the backside of the morning. So just stay calm. I sipped my coffee, and fidgeted in my chair.

"I think it's funny," commented Greg.

"You would."

"Aw come on Fran, its not like you've never been naked in front of a man before. I've seen you naked."

Calm Fran. Take a deep breath before you deck him. "It's not really quite the same thing."

"Why, I'm a guy, he's a guy."

"He's a guy, you're a fag!" I said, my anger seething over.

"Hey, hey, hey, children. Enough." Hugo hovered like a mother hen keeping her two warring chicks apart. "I'm sure it was an accident. Did he at least apologize?"

"Yes," I sulked.

"Well, then. You guys are just going to have to get along."

"I can't believe you guys are sticking up for him. Remind me to take your Christmas presents back to the store. You wonât be getting them."

Greg and Hugo looked hurt. I felt bad. And then before I knew it, they were enveloping me in the biggest, baddest, sappiest hug Iâd ever been involved in.