You ask how my day was, but before my vocal cords can make the vibrations necessary to respond, you’ve launched into a story about how you’re pretty sure it’s Bill in accounting who has been microwaving fish in the break room. At dinner, I turn to tell you a funny story I heard at work, but the words don’t quite leave my lips before you are summarizing today’s headlines and lamenting the state of world affairs. In bed, I roll over to tell you goodnight, but the only thing that escapes my open mouth is the sound of your voice.
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“I write because the only thing better than reading stories is to create them myself.” – the writer
thedrabble.wordpress.com 
I love how this changes my mind from a disinterested partner to a sense of a schizophrenic struggle.
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