For my husband, that means sleeping until nine. For me, until eleven. I get up and go upstairs to the kitchen, as always, and make coffee for us. It’s always his second because he makes one on his own. My goal every morning is to make mine better than the one he made for himself. But it rarely works. Making good coffee is harder than giving a good blowjob. Georg is doing tai chi in the living room and I put his coffee on the floor. I’m not sure whether you’re allowed to drink coffee while doing tai chi. No idea. Agnetha says it’s his decision, regardless of whether I think coffee and tai chi are opposites. She says my dear husband can do with the coffee as he wants. Which is fine with me. I take my cup of coffee downstairs to the bathroom. I have to shave myself for the prostitute. Not for my husband. Those days are gone. He’s not as particular as he was at the beginning of our love. As I shave in the bathroom, I look now and then at my graying temples. I’m very proud of them.
