Apologies in advance, but I’m turning in a sub-par performance.
There is a phenomenon that doesn’t really effect Normal People, known as Post-Haunt Plague.
This is where a haunter comes off a long, stressful season and breathes exactly one sigh of relief before their body leaves a note
and gives out entirely.
So while I need to have spent this week cleaning my disaster of a home and preparing to go out of town this weekend, what I’m actually fit for is:
- Lying in bed
- Moaning miserably
- Sweating and shivering
- Wondering why—whyyyyyyy—I stopped keeping ice cream in the house
But you deserve something, right?
Hmm… how ‘bout a classic sort of thing that happens all the time but specifically happened this week?
ME: What’cha doin?
HIM: I’m gonna go do the thing.
ME: … What?
HIM: (holds up Dremel)
ME: Oh. The (gestures)
HIM: Yeah. But I did the thing.
ME: Okay, we can’t both do that. One of us needs to use our words, or our marital communication will fall apart.
HIM: That’s already happened! Because you do the thing!
ME: Right, but when I do it, you know what words I’m not using!
HIM: I really don’t!
ME: Okay, but I know what I’m talking about.
ME: So that’s more than half of us!
ME: (smug) Yeah. You’ve got nothing