dream crushery is all part of the wifely services I offer
Because Z's computer games annoy me almost as much as my use of the internet irritates him, we generally put a moratorium on both of these pursuits in each other's company after work so that we can watch television instead spend quality time together or something.
But because my love of the Web Which Connects Us is too strong to be denied I occasionally back down and allow without much commentary an evening for him to burn his mind out on mindless pursuits (obviously the watching of a television is an uplifting and cultural activity) for some LovePoints (like Karma, but limited to affection) and the pleasure of traming all over the interbets another day.
And so it was yesterday. While I snoozed on the sofa and had disturbing dreams about small planes Z indulged his latest passion, Flight Simulator. And while I dreamed about being trapped in Cessnas and soaring on thermals and an incessant, maddening beeping noise Z pretended to fly some anarchic glider plane over the desert whose instruments made the very beeping noise that nearly pushed me over the edge in my dreams.
So upon waking at 4am from yet another airplane-mare in which my husband had somehow acquired a Cessna and was proposing to store it in the garden and use our street as an airstrip from which to take off, and I could not make him see that this was in fact WRONG and NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.
N: *still groggy* YOU ARE A MANIAC!
Z: *looking up from computer* Why?
N: Because a normal person who has to get up at 7:30 am would not be playing computer games at 4 am! Also, they wouldn't be proposing to use the street as an airstrip!
Z: *puzzled* er, what?
N: Oh, I think that might have been a part of my dream. Never mind that. BUT I AM STILL RIGHT ABOUT COMPUTER GAMES.
Z: But light of my life, it's not a computer game. It is a flight simulator that proper pilots use. This is an uplifting studious activity which is helping me acquire new skills.
N: It is not helping you acquire new skills! That WOULD be an actual point IF you were in flight school. But you are not a pilot! You are a telecomms engineer! And a maniac!
Z: But this is a proper training programme for pilots! Apparently 9/11 terrorists were able to fly planes on the basis of having done lots of simulations....
N: Well, I don't care because you are not a terrorist either! Only a maniac! And if one day we are stuck on a plane and the pilot dies and then the copilot dies and then the air hostess asks if there's anyone onboard who knows how to fly and you stand up and are able to do it on the basis of flight simulants THEN I will apologise. And I won't say another word. But in the meantime, for fuck's sakes, just go to bed.
Z: But what about all the skills I am honing?
N: There are no skills! This prepares you for flying planes just about as much as watching House trains me to be a doctor. You are not a pilot!
Z: *dejectedly* My dreams are being crushed here.
But because my love of the Web Which Connects Us is too strong to be denied I occasionally back down and allow without much commentary an evening for him to burn his mind out on mindless pursuits (obviously the watching of a television is an uplifting and cultural activity) for some LovePoints (like Karma, but limited to affection) and the pleasure of traming all over the interbets another day.
And so it was yesterday. While I snoozed on the sofa and had disturbing dreams about small planes Z indulged his latest passion, Flight Simulator. And while I dreamed about being trapped in Cessnas and soaring on thermals and an incessant, maddening beeping noise Z pretended to fly some anarchic glider plane over the desert whose instruments made the very beeping noise that nearly pushed me over the edge in my dreams.
So upon waking at 4am from yet another airplane-mare in which my husband had somehow acquired a Cessna and was proposing to store it in the garden and use our street as an airstrip from which to take off, and I could not make him see that this was in fact WRONG and NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.
N: *still groggy* YOU ARE A MANIAC!
Z: *looking up from computer* Why?
N: Because a normal person who has to get up at 7:30 am would not be playing computer games at 4 am! Also, they wouldn't be proposing to use the street as an airstrip!
Z: *puzzled* er, what?
N: Oh, I think that might have been a part of my dream. Never mind that. BUT I AM STILL RIGHT ABOUT COMPUTER GAMES.
Z: But light of my life, it's not a computer game. It is a flight simulator that proper pilots use. This is an uplifting studious activity which is helping me acquire new skills.
N: It is not helping you acquire new skills! That WOULD be an actual point IF you were in flight school. But you are not a pilot! You are a telecomms engineer! And a maniac!
Z: But this is a proper training programme for pilots! Apparently 9/11 terrorists were able to fly planes on the basis of having done lots of simulations....
N: Well, I don't care because you are not a terrorist either! Only a maniac! And if one day we are stuck on a plane and the pilot dies and then the copilot dies and then the air hostess asks if there's anyone onboard who knows how to fly and you stand up and are able to do it on the basis of flight simulants THEN I will apologise. And I won't say another word. But in the meantime, for fuck's sakes, just go to bed.
Z: But what about all the skills I am honing?
N: There are no skills! This prepares you for flying planes just about as much as watching House trains me to be a doctor. You are not a pilot!
Z: *dejectedly* My dreams are being crushed here.