"Hello?"

"David? It's K . . ."

"Hey, K . . . how's it going?"

I had seen that it was K on the caller id. I had also seen it was 11:30 at night and, well—I'm going to go ahead and admit it—that combination of facts made me a little nervous. Got the heart pumping a little bit. Because here's the thing — K is our tenant. She and her husband J moved into our place back in June. And yeah, they're the perfect tenants and we love them. And they are having a housewarming party tonight back at the old apartment. The place where we used to live. — And why am I reciting Bare Naked Ladies lyrics? — And it was cool for them to invite us. And we're looking forward to being visitors in our old place. It'll be kinda fun and weird at the same time. *Sigh* I miss our place.

But that's later tonight. Back to the subject at hand: this phone call. From K. At 11:30pm. "How's it going" is the thing I say to everybody. It's my token greeting. I say it no matter what. But what I really meant was, "What's wrong?"

"Well, I have some interesting news . . . "

Oh, crap. I'm thinking, okay, I can do this. Let's see . . . flood? . . . or fire? . . . or the crazy guy on the third floor developed another cyst on his ass, went crazy, and shot up the building? Last time K called, she and J were trapped inside the elevator and the emergency phone wasn't working. (They were later rescued by DCFD).

Whatever it was, I was ready. I could handle it. Go ahead. Give it to me.

"We found your wedding ring."

It took a moment to sink in. What? What is this? I'm not sure I . . . I mean, I've heard of this concept before but . . . good news?

"It was under the stove. I figured it was worth a late night call."

She was right. It was. Did I mention I love these guys?

And there it is. I'm not sure if the rest of you felt it, but I think a shift is happening. Did you? Did you feel it? Kinda right in the lower abdomen. That wasn't gas pain. The hellish summer of 2007, with its bad moves, its lost wedding rings and stolen money, its sweet-and-sour-ill-timed promotions, and its hot, hot drywalling experiments, is finally over.

It's time to go outside. And all I can say is, thank God. Because this fetal position I've been in has been getting really freakin' uncomfortable.

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