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"  Got this email from The Editor yesterday morning: To: K. From: The Editor Subject: Movin&amp;#039; on out (Side note: When I read that subject line, I nearly died. I was like, &amp;quot;OMG, he&amp;#039;s dumping me. Over email. With a clever subject line.) K- So I was thinking about our recent bout of not getting along, and decided it&amp;#039;s because we almost never leave the apartment anymore. We&amp;#039;re like rats in a cage, really. So tonight, I&amp;#039;d like to take you out on a real date. Dinner location TBD, but it&amp;#039;s going to be fancy so I suggest you dress up.- The Editor You know? I haven&amp;#039;t even noticed that we hadn&amp;#039;t gone out in ages. We had totally settled into boring couple mode. How did I let that happen? Anyway, I was really excited for our date. So excited, in fact, that I bought a new dress after work \u2013 a black silk bubble-skirt with a red trim. I wore it with strappy heels and straightened my hair. &amp;quot;You look devastating,&amp;quot; he said when I arrived at the swanky French restaurant. He smiled and handed me some white orchids wrapped with a yellow ribbon. I thanked him and we looked at our menus. Menus without prices on it, I might add. I knew he wasn&amp;#039;t going to let me pay, but I didn&amp;#039;t think I even had enough cash on me to pretend that we were going Dutch. We were just getting started on our appetizers (pate), when he jumped a little in his chair. &amp;quot;What&amp;#039;s wrong?&amp;quot; I asked. &amp;quot;Oh, nothing. My cell&amp;#039;s on vibrate.&amp;quot; Sure enough, I could hear the faint whirring of a cell phone in his pocket. He didn&amp;#039;t answer, of course, and we went back to eating. I told him about the latest Serena situation \u2013 she wants to do more live reporting during the morning news even though we only have one live crew \u2013 and he told me about his latest project, a book about Ben Franklin&amp;#039;s life that was so horribly written he didn&amp;#039;t even know what to do with it. Then our entrees came. I got the duck and he got the salmon, and we took bites of our own, oohed and ahhed and then took bites of each other&amp;#039;s and did the same. The food was to die for. I saw him shift in his seat and again heard the faint whirring of his cell phone not once, but twice within five minutes. I wondered many things: 1) who it was 2) why he didn&amp;#039;t just turn his cell phone off and 3) who it was. Not that I could ask without his interpreting it as nosy. Because as we know, he likes his privacy. While we ate dessert (cr\u00E8me brulee for me and chocolate mousse for him), his cell phone vibrated yet again. &amp;quot;Is it work?&amp;quot; I asked. &amp;quot;Do you need to take it?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;No,&amp;quot; he said. &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s not work&amp;quot; And that&amp;#039;s all he said about that, and I didn&amp;#039;t push it for obvious reasons. When we left the restaurant, he turned off his cell without checking his messages. Yeah, that&amp;#039;s not going to drive me insane or anything. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/a7605/bedroom-blog-0424/>