When I finally got home from work around 11:30, I went straight to bed. Passing through the kitchen on the way upstairs I saw the cat pacing back and forth next to the counter under some dirty dishes. I thought I did those this morning. Oh well. I was too tired to deal with anything more intense than brushing my teeth. I trip over a wet towel on the bathroom floor. He really needs to clean up after himself. After brushing my teeth I go to bed. My room was freezing. Why is the window open? It’s 20 freaking degrees out! I slam the window shut and climb into bed, acknowledging my husband along the way. My head hit the pillow and I passed out. Three hours later my phones rang and I was off to solve another murder. Ah, the glorious life of a detective. When I got home from work later that day, the window was open again. What the hell?

* * *

I helped her out of the window onto the fire escape as my wife walked in the door, arriving home from work. Late as usual. Thank God. My friend was making her way down the fire escape and into the alley, cleverly avoiding being seen by my wife. We didn’t have any kids to catch me. She was too focused on her job to even think about wanting kids. She climbed into bed and fell asleep almost immediately after she walked in the door, too tired to even say hello. A crash from the kitchen told me that the dinner I set out for her was knocked off the counter by our stupid old cat. Typical. Her job always comes first. I glanced out the window to make sure my friend had gotten away safely and noticed a guy crawling out of my neighbors window. I wonder how long that’s been going on for. Three hours later I was woken by her phone buzzing. She was being called into work to investigate another murder. She never sticks around for very long. I call my lady friend again. There’s no use in being alone.

* * *

I throw on my clothes as fast as I can. She’s back and I have to get out. He opens the window and helps me out. I climb down the fire escape carefully, trying to be quiet. Once I’m on solid ground I put my heels back on and hail a cab. When I get home, my husband and kids are already in bed. I crawl in next to him and go to sleep. About 3 hours later I get a text message. I climb out of bed and get dressed, making up an excuse as to why I’m “going to work” at 1 am. My husband grumbles and rolls over, mumbling about how I’m never home. Maybe if you were half as nice as he is, I would be home more you drunk asshole. I think to myself as I grab my coat and leave. I hail another cab. This time I use the front door instead of the fire escape. It’s locked when I get there, but I just use the key he gave me last week. Five hours later I’m climbing out the window again. It’s better than being alone.