November has arrived, right on schedule. I’m lining up some new projects and reconnecting with the people I abandoned in October.
Who, I now recall, annoys the crap out of me.
ME: What time is it?
ME: (checks phone) You looked!
HIM: Yeah… at the angle of the sun.
ME: Do not start that shit. I will beat you with a controller
Speaking of that controller, no I never did finish Horizon Zero Dawn. That’s how far behind I am in my gaming, y’all. Blame the ferrets that control my brain, but I keep getting distracted by other things and haven’t had time to play in months.
Serious question: do I still get to call myself a gamer?
Enough about that, because what I am making time for is snuggling with Husband so we can catch up—as previously mentioned—on the Netflix. Here again, I am faced with the reminder that he’s just bad at things.
HIM: (touches my arm)
ME: That’s my arm.
HIM: (continues tapping along)
ME: Still my arm.
ME: More arm.
HIM: (touches my nose)
ME: That’s my nose. There’s actually some stuff in between you skipped over.
HIM: Arm bone’s connected to the nose.
ME: No. You clearly know nothing of female anatomy.