After three long months, my fisherwoman wife has returned to me! If this is maybe your first time ever reading my ramblings, you might not know that my wife is a commercial fisherman and spends her summers in Alaska catching salmon by the ton. It's hard, grueling work at times and they often do it for 20+ hours a day. I say that to emphasize that I appreciate the sacrifice she makes going up there (she loves it and I'd never ask her to stop) and the toll it takes on her body just to bring home a sizable chunk of change at the end of the summer.

People often ask how life is being a bachelor for the summer, and I usually give the same response: the first month is awesome, the second month is kind of lonely, and by the third month I've reverted to some sort of feral human capable only of grunting and eating cereal over the sink. Some parts, like getting to leave my laundry on the floor until I'm good and damn ready to pick it up, are awesome. Other parts, like eating McDonald's for breakfast, SEEM awesome at first but later reveal themselves to be kind of terrible. And still other parts are just bummers, like having to re-learn to sleep alone.

Seriously. It's weird how badly my sleep is affected by not having Kat around. I wind up crafting some kind of crude scarecrow wife out of the pillows on the bed and snuggling it.


All in All, Great Lunch.

I just had a Mexican bartender explain to me why no one wants to fuck white dudes. Then a hipster with a waxed, Rollie Fingers-esque mustache called me a pussy for wearing a shirt with a bird on it.

Pretty awesome lunch break.