My talk with Heather about getting off of my god damn couch was much more successful than I ever could have imagined. I approached her last Wednesday afternoon and very calmly asked if she’d be willing to stop by her house to pick up her mail this weekend. She was quiet for a moment and then she nodded slowly and agreed to drive over on Saturday.
And that was that. I took her to her house, doorstep piling up with mail, and even convinced her to go inside. I’ll admit, I did a fantastic job of cleaning up but now the living room seemed empty. We didn’t stay long but we were only gone long enough to grab her things and move them back into her own bedroom.
Heather is officially back at home and doing well, from what I hear. I kind of wish I’d gently kicked her out sooner. But it’s done now so things can go back to normal. I’m even back on my regular kill schedule which is just orgasmically wonderful. That is a word that should be a part of the English language for how powerful the imagery is – at least I think so. I’m just so satisfied with being able to go back to committing murder without worrying about anyone else. It’s making things more fun.
For example, I had no idea there were so many nerve endings on the back and thigh area. It was fascinating to see a young man just crumple with a simple jab from my nail gun – which does not shoot like a gun, thank you, film industry. It still packs a powerful punch and telling your husband that you stapled a man to death is just delightful. His face just lit up. He is so adorable when he wants to be. God I love him.
Give me a break, my anniversary is coming up and I might actually get to spend it with my husband. Wouldn’t that be nice?
As always, dear readers,