That One Plot Device

 

Hauntings season is (basically) over, which means Husband and I are spending quality time having weird-ass conversations for your benefit.

Stephen Colbert: Welcome to the nerd zone, my friend

I mean, we’d have them whether I had a blog or not, obviously… but you do benefit from reading about them so here’s a thing that happened yesterday—enjoy!

 

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My Gym Rat

 

This week contains my last few “normal” days before I begin terrorizing the citizens of St. Louis every single night,[1] which means I’m spending whatever little bits of time I can with Husband—cuddling, sitting with him while he finally watches Mindhunter,[2] and taking care of some projects we foolishly put off until the least convenient season.

 

Yes, I really want to tell you about one of them, but I can’t.  It’s too big (and not at a shareable stage yet).  We’ll get there, I promise.

 

But my altered schedule makes my nightly call with Offspring easier; most nights I just call him when I’m on my way home to wash the blood out of my hair.[3]

(Ready or Not) Bride in torn, burned, bloody wedding dress, covered in blood spatter, hair matted with blood and grit, giggles.

 

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vs. The Vacuum

 

What with one thing and another, we’ve been making heavy use of professional pet sitters recently (I found a service that lets me book online, without ever speaking to another human, but still sends the same actual human every time to take care of my furry darlings; basically, it’s the antisocial control-freak’s ideal and every business should adopt this model) which exposed a few unkempt corners around the house as well as kicking up a few dustbunnies within my psyche.

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!