Do you know my husband?

Do you like him? 

In that case I would recommend you phone him right now and say goodbye to him. 

I am >this< close to murdering him.  I want to kill him, annihilate him, grind his bones to nothing and then stamp on any remains.  Actually that isn’t what I want to do.  Doing all of that will mean that I have to spend more time near him.  I think shoving him in front of a moving truck may be better.

The one thing that Wouter and I realised very early in our relationship is that we can not share a computer.  Under no circumstances.  So what do I do?  I stay away from his computer.

What does he do?  He starts off by running through my internet quota in a flash by looking at 70 houses-for-sale every evening.  I have 2Gb of 3G monthly for R450.  After that I go into out-of-bundle rates and those are horribly expensive.  Soon after I got this, my own computer, I ran up an account of R2500 because Windows 7 downloaded updates all the time.  So I stopped the updates and voila, it was sorted.  At least until Wouter got this bug in his ars behind to know of every single bloody house that comes on the market in the whole of bloody Cape Town.  To the best of my knowledge we can’t afford to buy a new house.  But does that bother Wouter when he goes on a wishing spree?  No, not him. 

The same way that he now has 3 / three / III (one less than 4) freaking keyboards.  He had one.  It got old.  He got a new one.  Is he satisfied?  NO.  So he goes and buys another one.  Does he sell one of them?  NO.  Why?  WTFK.  So now half of our supposed dining room (which he invaded and called his office for some time but he hasn’t worked from home for 2 years and he still hasn’t vacated or sorted it out) is his “music studio”.  What does that mean in real terms?  Simple.  I have no space for my stuff.  Nothing.  He has half the dining room for his “studio” and half for his office crap.  Of course he denies this and says that my stuff is clogging it up.  Uh huh.  I am the one trying to sort it out – I will know what is where.

Back to my computer.  When I am the only one using my computer I stay within my monthly bandwidth cap.  As soon as Wouter get his filthy claws on my computer I magically run through my cap by the middle of the month.  Co-incidence?  Absolutely, according to my dearest, soon-to-be-deceased husband.  After all, how could dozens of image heavy sites use up a lot of bandwidth?  He doesn’t appreciate it at all when I confront him after a spree and tell him how much bandwidth he used.  He prefers to blame it on the computer malfunctioning or some such lame excuse.

Tonight I saw him working on my computer (as I was lying down on the couch trying to get my head to stop spinning) but I am used to it by now and after all, the internet costs come off his account (not that it really makes a difference – we don’t do the mine/yours thing with money).  I have to lodge token protests.  It is my responsibility.  But I can sort of forgive him for being reckless with internet use – it is his one indulgence (except for his three mistresses, Miss Technics, Miss Yamaha and Miss Korg).

What I can’t forgive is what he did next.  In an attempt to hide what he did (ie he looked at houses) he Wiped My Computer’s History. 

 Does he think I am an idiot?  How could I not notice that he did this?  And how stupid does he think I am – did he really think that I didn’t know he was checking out houses?  It is all he ever does on my computer.

This is too much. 

I use the history.  If I wanted to retype the address of every site I wanted to go to I would’ve.  But I don’t.  I want to click on my history folder and go to the sites that I went to previously.  I want to keep up to date on certain things by going to the history tab and looking for it there, based on how long ago I last visited it.  I don’t want to add it to favourites because then I don’t have a record of how long ago I visited the site.  It may not be the mainstream way of doing it but it is my way and I like it.

And let’s not forget, in the process he somehow managed to turn off Google’s autofill.  So now, instead of starting to type “krok” and Google guesses that I want to go to krokkenoster, I have to type out the whole of my request.  I.  Don’t.  Want.  To.  Do.  It.  That.  Way.  But according to Google that function isn’t turned off.  So while wiping my history file Wouter changed another setting too and now I am so mad I could kill.

Some of the sites in my history file takes 100’s of clicks to get to (or so it feels anyway).  Clicking on the eventual page means that I don’t have to wade through all the crap to get to it.  I am so mad I can’t even tell you.

And why did all of this happen?  Because Wouter couldn’t keep his hands off my computer and specifically its settings.  I am starting to think that it may be particularly rewarding to return the favour soon.  Be afraid, my dear husband, be petrified.

Oh, you might want to try and phone him on our landline.  Because like usual Wouter can’t be reached on his cell phone.  The battery is flat / it is diverted / it is on silent / I hit him with it.

…

And to top it all off, we had a fight about this now.  Which means that he said, I said, we said together, he told me off, I told him off and then I slapped him because we were laughing so hard.  Which takes all the fun out of writing an update like this.  And then he made tea.  Die bliksem.