Typing Slave was settled in the comfy chair–she calls it a recliner–with the heating pad I so love to curl up on. Something about bruises and welts from the IV? Like I care. Anyway, she wouldn’t let me ON the heating pad because she had her new laptop COMPUTER and wasn’t even working on my site with it. Said she was trying to write a synopsis with a friend. What a joke.
To teach her a lesson, I knocked over her water so it spilled across the electrical cords to her pad and laptop. I knew better than knock it onto the laptop itself because I’d get banished to the upstairs. I’m saving that for desperate times.
Got her out of the chair and me into it. My aim is perfection.