a running gag around my house is that it might be comical if people really knew what an average day’s conversation sounds like between my special lady friend and i. last night we had spent some time decoding a dream i had the previous evening of being in a documentary about barehanded fishing during an earthquake. i had to punch a catfish in the throat to do it, steadfastly refusing to abandon the lake even though the world was shaking. i won a prize because i was the only one who fished on against all odds and common sense. the joke was on that dream, because i don’t even like fishing. or fish. when i woke up to snuggly times in the morning, i kept shouting about the earthquake, which i was partially convinced had actually happened.
after breakfast today, our conversation went like this:
me: do you want to be the vice-president of science?
her: what do you mean?
me: do you want to look up the bus time so we can go grocery shopping? how much clearer can i be on that?
her: about a thousand percent. do you want to be the senior cfo of taking out this stinky trash bag?
me: yes! i knew if i stuck around in this job long enough, i’d get a promotion. let’s celebrate with vegetables.