Do Men Get Lonely at Work?

Here's the thing. When my husband comes home -- he spends the first two hours or so wondering in and out of my office while I'm trying to write and work (or bitch on Facebook). He tells me crazy, unimportant things that I could not give a flying backwards fuck about. No really. There are stories with no point. Bitching about his Mormon co-worker which, okay, I'll give him that one. That dude is a Grade A asshat and it has nothing to do with his religion that's just how I remember which one he is.

Now, I realize that my husband wanting to spend time with me might SOUND charming. But you know what? When I'm trying to write filthy butt sex it's a real problem around here. You know what this means? That's right -- my husband is a total cock block.

I told him so.

It's been fifteen minutes and he's still speechless.