People In Hell Want Icewater
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A guest


May 28, 2007 - 8:31 p.m.

Some days, I feel like I don't have a partner in this house, I have a guest.

I stayed up all last night working on things, among others, cleaning and polishing some of the kitchen stairs, tearing apart my old Yamaha SY-85 to learn that it's pretty much unrepairable, and doing a lot of system updates. Today I got up around 5, went out and planted five of the ten Norway spruce seedlings I bought last week, installed a hard drive in an external enclosure I got last week, and just got done cleaning the kitchen floor.

Suzanne appears to have spent the entire day working on a scrapbook.

Which is what she did yesterday.

And the day before.

And the day before.

In the meantime, laundry needs to be done, catboxes are overflowing, the rugs could use vacuuming, the wabbits' room could probably stand a cleaning, and even when she works on things like her scrapbook, it's not like I'm not required, because she decides she wants to do something, like rescan some pictures, and then I'm on the hook to set the scanner up, install the software, show her how to use it, tell her where to put the pictures...

I came down this afternoon and sat down, and the first thing Suzanne asked me wasn't how I was, or whether I needed anything, but "why isn't the internet radio playing any more?"

I don't fucking know, I don't fucking care, I didn't break it.

I just looked at her and said, "I'm not debugging anything today."

I then went to the store and got soda.

Partners I can live with for a long time. Guests I can tolerate for about two weeks. Maybe three.


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