Being married is often like exercise.  It can be invigorating, life affirming and so worth it, but sometimes it’s just a sweaty, I have to shower again, and my body feels like it’s dying, pain in the ass.

Michael’s a great guy and I’m glad I’m married to him, but there are times I think about poisoning his food.  He cooks everything, so that would be kind of  tricky, but the desire is there.

I wrote Wet Suit on his birthday and the gist of the post was reflecting on the way he sees things and his unique perspective.  As with all posts, I sort of ramble, cut out the things that bore me and then I’m done.

I liked Wet Suit.  It touched a little on our trip and Michael.  There were some “lovey” feelings in there too.

Michael reads the post and says, “It was good.  I liked the picture, but…um, well the quote that you used…that’s not really what I was getting at.  The point was that buying food can become a one way street and when we don’t see it all the time we forget.  It really wasn’t that big of a deal and you made me sound like I’m reflecting on animals dying and that’s not what I said.”

My thoughts, “Oh, shut up.  I was wishing you a happy birthday and no one cares if I got the quote right.”  I think I may have said that out loud to him.  Maybe I yelled.

Perhaps Mr. Always Having a Comment and Being Way Too Honest, if you want people to know your exact quote you should start your own blog.  So there.

I feel better now and we are having chicken florentine tonight, so he’s already forgiven.

My thoughts from the laundry room.  I Have No Idea Who Turned the Air up to 77.

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