I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be married to me, and then when I entertain that thought for a minute my immediate response is, “That would be awesome!” then when the reality of that thought settles in I move to, “Holy shit, I would go insane.” And then I feel kind of bad for Brian.
For instance, Brian walked in a couple weeks ago and all of the furniture in our living room was completely rearranged. He went with it, but I didn’t like the new placement of our furniture so yesterday he walked in with the furniture once again in totally different areas of the apartment than it was when he left in the morning. This all would be fine except when he woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water he almost broke his neck tripping over the chaise lounge I “artistically” placed in the dead center of the room.
But he knew what he was getting into when me married me. My eccentric family was fair warning. Take this odd text I received from my bother-in-law on Thursday about a breastfeeding mother apparition by way of a chicken tender.
At least we are not the poor people living on the fourth floor of our building. If your Wifi name addresses the stench on the floor of your building, then it must be pretty bad.
