Relationships…the day after tomorrow

My husband has come down from his mountain lair this week for a visit, a resupply, and to get someone else to brush out the corgi’s undercoat for a while (and he had a magnificent undercoat this year from the mountains).

My six weeks of working from home in peace allowed me to forget how disruptive it can be to have a retiree in the house. He has no respect for my Zoom meetings, deciding he needs to talk to me right as I’m trying to listen to the head of our team giving the daily update from management.

Plus, he drinks two pots of coffee a day, while I go through about two a week. I’ve been to a grocery store three times since Wednesday (because he’s finishing off stuff that should have lasted through the week or longer), when I normally venture out once a week, usually on Sunday. And he wants the food he can’t get in the mountains–sushi, bacon cheeseburgers and sweet and sour shrimp, for example.

He’s adorable, but disruptive.

On the writing front, I’m stuck again, but I’ve got a few vague ideas as to why. This weekend I’ll try to flesh them out and solve them. Have a safe and sound weekend (please don’t defy any public health orders–they exist because people died, and you’re intelligent, thin, and attractive so you know this isn’t a hoax), and I’ll be back at the word mines.