As I’ve mentioned before, The Wife and I have been known to approach situations differently.
For example, when I moved into a room in college, I set up the bed and the internet. Everything else was optional, and was unpacked as it was needed. This meant that when the time came to move back home for the summer, there was usually a box or two loaded into the car that had never been unpacked.
The first time The Wife and I moved into a place together, I followed standard procedure. Assembled the bedframe, set up my computer in a tangle of cords and egg-crates, and proceeded to surf the web.
At this point, the reader is free to imagine The Wife standing there, clearing her throat meaningfully and tapping one foot, arms folded.
Three days later the entire place was unpacked, organized, and decorated. A mere 72 hours after getting the keys the only thing left to do was find complementary dishtowels.
I tell you all this to explain what happened our second day in the new apartment. We moved before our furniture did, so we’re currently sleeping on an air mattress, and I got the cable hooked up so that I can post this while sitting on the floor.
The Wife is working nights these days. This means she works a 12-14 hour shift, followed by an hour or more commute home, where she attempts to sleep for 8 hours before getting up, eating something, and driving another hour or more to start the next 12-14 hour shift.
You’ll not nowhere in there is there time for, well, anything. Work, drive, sleep, drive work. Repeat.
Which means there’s only one possible explanation for how, when I came home Monday night, twelve hours after we’d moved into the new apartment, the entire bathroom, fridge, and pantry were organized.
The Wife can bend space-time.