Boredom And Death Bread

In an interesting role reverse, mrs househusbandnot is working at home today while I am in the office. She has called in approx eight times already this morning with various comments/requests including: "I am cold", "Will you buy some eggs?", "I'm bored" x4, "Should I watch some daytime TV?", and "My remote access won't work". (Welcome - dear wife - to my world.) My suggestions that she turn on the heating, learn the guitar, do some work, go and buy me an XBox, and not to watch daytime TV - since that is the turning point when you should really just give up even pretending to be anything and go out and buy some crack - have fallen on deaf ears. (She just called again while I was writing this post to say she is buying us tickets to Nairobi. She must be bored.)

I am never bored at home on my own. In fact I have not actually been bored for quite a long time. Maybe the odd dull 10 minutes waiting for a train, or waiting for mrs hhn outside the cinema, or watching the last three minutes of the previous TV show before the cricket highlights. But not really bored. I've been mad and angry and frustrated and depressed and sad and nuts and hot and cold lately. But not bored for a while now. (I guess this is some sort of testament to mrs hhn, although I can't work it out since she is currently bored at home.)

In mrs hhn-related news, as part of this diet we are on she has managed to procure some of the heaviest, darkest, driest, nastiest bread known to man (or beast or devil). I have no idea where this Death Bread comes from, but is sure as hell fills you up. Just carrying a small loaf of it from the fridge to the chopping board burns 100 calories. Eating one small slice of it requires both stamina and concentration, such is this bread's density and also complete lack of taste. You really have to work at it to finish a slice. (Naturally, one is not allowed to decorate Death Bread with anything like butter or some other ingredient that would make it all seem a bit less like eating a nutty floorboard. Although I don't really think there is much you could add to the Death Bread to make it any more acceptable to palate or jaw or gut. [A laptop dancer maybe?])
(Ohh, mrs hhn just called again. That's twice in 10 minutes. She will be watching Jeremy Kylie before lunchtime.)

Anyway, I am off for the next few days. Will be back to hhning sometime early next week after the bank holiday. In the meantime, don't watch daytime TV, if you know her give mrs hhn a call (she is available for comment on pretty much anything under the sun after two and a half hours at home on her own), wish me a happy birthday for Saturday, and don't go getting too bored.

Incidentally, cats busted at last.