Hi folks! It's 9:23pm right now, and I am sitting here on the couch, grading papers. I'm exhausted, (a permanent state of being these days; more explanation to come shortly), and I keep falling asleep and typing a big line of fddddddddddddddddddddd across student papers, depending on what key I had my finger on when I dozed off. This does not make for a good grading session, plus napping with a laptop on my lap is no fun either.
Fortunately, I have this wonderful husband who likes to play video games like Halo. For those who don't know, Halo is a first-person shooter game; this is not a game that I would generally want in my house, but Alex really enjoys it, so fine--just another of those wonderful little compromises to create a happy marriage. Alex likes to play on teams, real guys on his team all sitting in their parents' basements, playing against nerds from all around the country sitting in their parents' basements. (No, no preconceived notions here, no sirree.) But Alex isn't necessarily the most generous or compassionate person when he is frustrated with someone who he thinks could be doing better. He is a fabulous, generous, compassionate man in a myriad of other ways, just not this one. And when he doesn't like what his teammates are doing, because they killed him or drove them off a cliff or keep going in the wrong direction, he isn't shy about letting them know.
Normally, this would drive me bonkers. When we drive on the freeway and he yells at the other cars who aren't driving in a way that makes it easier for him to drive, it does drive me bonkers. But tonight, as I type lines of repeating letters while grading, I am grateful for Alex's "Seriously?!? Anyone could have hit that guy!" or "You moron! Why did you just drive us right into this mess?" I'm grateful, because it's the only thing keeping me awake. So keep on yelling, hon, so I can keep grading papers. Or maybe I'll just go to bed. Good nighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
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