I know I mention my wife’s schizophrenia a lot. However, I’ll admit that it’s a little biased, because I have my own problems. Nothing I would openly own up to except to my wife or very, very close friends, but I will say a major factor of it: “Word (god damned) Salad.” In any given day, I will thoroughly screw up at least 5-10 times a day. Which sucks, because I am really freaking glib.
Today’s example, whilst my wife was about to cut up a mango:
Me: I’ll go get the… …the.. blue. (This was supposed to be “wooden cutting board,” and how it became “blue:” I don’t have a clue.)
K: Yeah, thanks!
Because that’s what defines an awesome marriage. I can say “blue” to her and she knows exactly what I mean. I don’t even know how many other words I fuck up, she just understands me so well that our conversations carry on just fine. I guess the moral to this story is: I love my wife.