A/N My oneshot "Simply Phoebe" was intended to stand alone but it occurred to me that it would work with all of the characters one by one so while I try and work out where Rachel & Chandler are lunching next I wrote this... as with all my scribblings it's for my own amusement but if anyone else out there likes it that will make me happy.

In the middle of the night sometimes, I awake and I need to know exactly where I put a plate, a mug, a pillow , something it could be anything - I need to know it is just where it should be.

I have to rise and check, because how can I possibly sleep if I do not know for sure that everything is just so ? Could you ?

I was fat as a child. That's when I had no control. Now, I have absolute control.I have locked Fat Monica away and disposed of the key. Sometimes I let Drunk Monica out to play though. I like her. She knows how to relax. Not like the real life Monica who has been known to sit on the floor rather than muss up the newly cleaned apartment, throw out a table because it was glass and wouldn't polish to perfection, give away a rug because its pile wasn't uniformly in the same direction...

I used to wish I was Rachel, in High School. Now, not so much. And that's a good thing. Healthy. She crashed back into my life and she leaves crumbs on the floor and never does the dishes and sometimes she even leaves wet towels in the bathroom. On the floor!

But I love her.

And then there's Chandler. Adorable, malleable Chandler, who in some incredible twist of - I don't know - fate ? or long buried attraction ? is now the man I love. And he Gets Me. You might say, he indulges me by calmly dealing with the fact that the little things in life can drive me crazy. He keeps me grounded; sure he's an idiot sometimes (he's a man isn't he? maybe even just an overgrown boy ) but with him .. it fits. It just fits. I am the luckiest girl in the world. And so far I am not even obsessing over where the relationship is going. I don't feel like I even need to. Because it works.

I must plump the cushions on the couch. They need to be just so before I go to bed. Is that dust on the TV screen ? Yes, I know it's eleven thirty at night.

I check the bathroom, fold the point back into the toilet paper, like they do in hotels. It's important, the little things are important.

What is in my future? Sometimes I stare into the darkness of midnight, even when he is sleeping beside me, and I get scared. What if it all goes wrong? What if I never have a home of my own, a child of my own ? What if he tires of living under my control ?

What ifs. What if I actually try and live for now ?

I have my brother and my friends and my career and this wonderful City, and most of all I have Chandler.

I am the luckiest girl in the world.