Left to My Own Devices

My wife and her best friend Alex left on Friday for a three-day cruise.  Alex is moving out-of-state soon, so this was sort of a last big girly weekend together for them.  It also meant this past weekend was the longest time Hannah and I have spent apart since we’ve been living together/married.

So to answer the immediate question, yes, I showered.  Okay, it was on Sunday, but still.

I woke up on Saturday with every intention of getting out of the house.  I’d already done the grocery shopping on the way home from work on Friday, but I figured I’d go to the gym, maybe check out Rango or The Adjustment Bureau, and maybe even go out for some of those citrus chipotle wings Hannah had the other night that I probably should have had instead of the buffalo chicken sub I ended up with.

But first, I thought I’d play a little Mass Effect 2 before the gym opened.

You can’t play “a little” Mass Effect 2.  Or, at least, I can’t.  Aside from breaks for lunch and dinner and certain biological necessities, I played from about ten in the morning until “Weekend Update” on Saturday Night Live.  That’s fourteen hours for those of you playing at home.  Thing is, the first three or four went by before I knew it.  I was rolling along fighting Blue Suns and Eclipses, and I look up and realize it’s two and I’m hungry.  Then I’m collecting my team and it’s seven and I’m hungry again.  Then I’m scanning planets and mining resources and it’s midnight and I can’t feel my legs.

Sunday was better.  I mean, I had to get up and go to work the next day, so playing video games until midnight was a little out of the question.  But I’d wager I lost another six or seven hours to the game that day, until the Les Miserables 25th anniversary concert showed up on PBS and won over my fragile attention span.

So out of a total of forty-eight wifeless hours, I spent almost a full day’s worth maneuvering pixels around a computer screen.  And while I don’t feel any particular shame or guilt about it, it does underline the fact that I really do need her around, or else I’m going to end up on a Discovery Channel special about how they needed a forklift to get me out of the house.

And when it comes down to it, I missed her.  Sure, I was free to swear at the game as much as I liked without being held accountable for it — and those Geth mechs are utter bastards and I don’t care who says differently — but out of the above-mentioned forty-eight hours, I was silent for nearly most of them.  Apart from a few well-chose obscenities towards the game and some less obscenity-laden words for the cats, I spent most of the weekend in silence.  Which I’m sure Hannah is very sorry to have missed out on.

I’m not trying to say this weekend was some kind of call for help, evidence of some fundamental psychological issue.  I mean, there’s plenty of other evidence for that.  This was nothing more than a one-time indulgence in a spouse-free environment in an effort to do as little as possible.  It wasn’t even planned, really; it’s not true laziness if you put any thought into it.

And to be honest, I’m more excited about seeing Hannah when I get home from work today than I was about the prospect of having a weekend without her.  I even showered and everything.


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