My wife defends her master's thesis in a month, and as a result she is reaching all-time levels of grumpiness; she seems to be keen these days on picking arguments. As a woman, of course, the odds are very much in her favor that she will win any given argument, but she's so worn down that she's simply lashing out at anything.
Last night I was working on some revision in my book and she started an argument with me over whether I ever mention the time period in which the story takes place.
"It's in there somewhere, I remember," she said.
"No. It's not. Even though all the dates correspond with 1996-1997, I was very deliberate about never actually mentioning the year. It gives it a more timeless feel. I did that on purpose."
"No, I remember seeing it."
She grabbed the manuscript that I keep on the desk and started flipping through.
"It's in here; I know," she said.
"I wrote the book, honey. And after that I read it through several hundred times. I assure you, the year is never mentioned."
"It's not. Why can't you argue me on something else? Anything else -- what I had for dinner last night; whether I really like beer. This is the one thing I know."
She flipped through the manuscript a few more minutes then tossed it back on the desk, letting me know that I had not won but simply that she was not going to waste her time proving me wrong. It's going to be a long month.
I mentioned earlier that in news there are some words or phrases that will automatically move a story to the top of the stack. One of those phrases is "naked dog wrestling."
Mommy's new little helper: meth.
Aaaarrrrrrgggghhhh!!! It's freezing in Britain! Temperatures as low as -7 in some parts of England! Abandon hope all ye who enter here!
(It was -14C this morning in St. Paul. Today's high was 1C -- my dad had his moon roof open when we went to lunch)