A Little Whine With Dinner

Lately the dude and I have been hankering to lay eyes on each other just a bit (and I’m talking about my dude, not The Dude) and it is not working out, people. He has been getting up in the 4:30-5am range and out the door, and he gets home after seven and usually has to go straight to laptop town to do more work, and then is exhausted, and lucky if he makes his eyeballs stay open until 9. I shuffle out of bed in the morning in time to see him for a few minutes, and we have a few minutes of catch up conversation each evening, but that has been IT lately, and it sucks donkey dingus. Mostly for him, because he is being run ragged, but I feel entitled to a little whine of my own. POOOOOOOR MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

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One comment

  1. Testify! People sometimes tell my wife about something, like an invite, and then say to me a week later, “I told Angela, don’t you guys talk?” We do when we can, but it’s often like you’ve described. I’ve been hearing much lately about the fact that many human societies have viewed the night as having two distinct periods of sleep, with an hour between them when one or both members of a couple might read, think, write letters, have conversation, or make hanky panky (these last two would ideally involve both). Paul Bogard mentioned this in his recent book about darkness, “The End of Night”. I believe the ideer is that in olden days when our lives were not a constant harangue of inputs to our brain people naturally woke up in the middle of the night and were sufficiently rested to do some quiet wakeful thing. Maybe you and Senior Nordic could set yourselves an internal wish to awaken at some wee hour and convene in the waking world? Note: My wife and I have not tried this, and I think she would not appreciate me knocking on her tired skull to invite her to play cribbage by starlight.

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