I’m so glad I gave myself that gift of time. Seriously.
I spent almost an entire weekend playing video games and remembering how to play some of my favorites, and very little of it sleeping… much to Husband’s distress.
Just a quick one today because I’m exhausted. But in a good way!
Never let it be said that I am not willing to point out, when the rare opportunity presents itself, my own imperfections.
I am, for example, not as young as I used to be. Shocking, I know. But that’s not all!
I know you want updates after last week’s cliffhanger, and I want to give them to you! Things on the legal front are progressing in what I assume is the usual fashion for such matters: slowly. (Legal professionals, back me up here)
Things on the financial front are… have you ever seen a mammal that is not biologically designed to swim try to do so? They don’t drown – at least, not right away – but there’s a lot of scrabbling around and desperate gasping and wide eyes looking for a magical escape route. That’s me, but on the inside. On the outside, things are fine, thankyouforasking.
The fine art of entrapment may be verboten in the world of law enforcement, but I’m here to tell you that it’s a vital component if you expect your marriage to be at all humorous. Sure, some people strive for peaceful, happy, harmonious, mutually beneficial marriages… but I think they must not understand what they’re missing.
If you’re sensing one of those posts where I ramble a bit, and have to jump back and forth to properly tell the story, congratulations on the paying attention thing! But no, this time I’ve actually got my shit together, and there’s a point easily made. Come along, readers – trust me.
Well, dear devoted followers, it is done.
Not Dishonored 2, I spent twenty goddamned hours trying to ghost my way through one mission (you’ll know it if you’ve been there) and then tried to peel my own face off when I saw my Final Stats screen reporting that two bodies had been found. I am still debating whether to lodge a formal complaint about that, because it’s bullshit. There’s no way any of those bodies were found. No. Fucking. Way. Someone would have had to have been moving furniture, and that’s just not a thing that underpaid guards who have muttered arguments with themselves over whether they know the whole alphabet do on their nightly rounds of a creepy-ass mansion. Basically, if any of you happen to know someone at Bethesda, let them know that I’m looking for them, that I want answers, and that I know a good hiding spot with room for another twenty or thirty bodies, easy.
One of the nice things about having my husband home more is that he’s had more energy for some of our leisure activities.