Well, it finally happened. After about 1344 hours of being together all of the time, in basically one room, having no other friends, with only one of us speaking the language, John and I finally got sick of each other. He came with me on my work trip to Fribourg this week (a town in the middle of Switzerland – half German, half French) and explored the city while I worked at the client’s office. Last night we went to dinner, got annoyed with each other about nothing, and then he went to sleep in the hotel before 10pm. I know he was annoyed with me because that’s what he does when he doesn’t want to talk to me – he “goes to sleep” even though we both know he’s not tired and usually stays up much later than me. I watched an episode of Saved by the Bell, per my usual work trip routine, and then went to sleep too.
I figure 1344 hours isn’t too bad, though. I mean, when we’re old, we won’t even remember that we’ve already spent 1343 hours together. And hopefully we will have friends. I, for one, am planning on joining a Canasta group asap.
Hopefully he’s not so annoyed with me that he doesn’t do my laundry during our laundry time slot tonight though. :)
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