Petrified Wife

I had a long day yesterday.  I was interviewed by the company trying to hire me for that new/old position.  I told them ahead of time that I would not sign certain clauses that would restrict my independence if they lost the contract.  I was therefore severely disappointed when the guy from corporate showed up with an offer letter with the exact language I objected to.  I was not impressed with him at all, which led to doubts about working for a company where a bozo like this could rise to a position of authority.  He kept spouting about the risk-reward of accepting the position but failed to see there was a lot of risk for me and scant reward from them.  I would be making exactly what I currently make.  I told him no thanks and walked out before the promised dinner.  I kind of liked having the independence to tell him that.  On the upside, the interview was at the Hyatt Harborside Hotel next to Logan Airport and the view of the Boston skyline at night across the water was dazzling.  I eventually got home and was fed by a disgruntled wife who thought she didn’t have to feed me last night.  She felt bad the job didn’t work out because it would have made for a much shorter commute for me and more time at home with her.  Just before heading up to bed last night she was puttering around the kitchen and I wandered in, so we could follow our normal routine of walking upstairs together.  She turned around and literally screamed and almost fainted.  I was perplexed as she angrily accused me of almost scaring her to death.  I joked that I didn’t think that I was that tough to look at but she was having none of it.  I finally realized how upset she was and apologized but maintained I had simply walked into the room.  Once she calmed down she admitted that she had been watching a lot of ghost stories on television over the last few days and when she turned around she thought I was a ghost.  I am much larger, physically, than my wife and when she turned around and saw me, with her already vivid imagination further inflamed by the ghost stories, she almost blew a gasket.  I ended up being impressed.  There must be something is the wife handbook which explains how they can get a husband to apologize profusely for doing absolutely nothing but walking into the room.  Ahh – the joys of matrimony (said in abject irony if she reads this).