Cynthia Lee of Kentucky recently admitted she hadn’t heard “one damn thing” in a recent 25-minute one-sided conversation with her husband.
Derek, an avid CrossFit athlete, started detailing all aspects of his workout approximately 10 seconds after dropping his gym bag full of sweaty clothes and speed ropes in the closet.
Cynthia said she stopped listening immediately, knowing she could either pay attention and want to kill herself with a fork or pretend to listen and escape to the “calm serenity of her mind palace.”
She explained: “I watch for pauses when Derek takes a breath. I grunt or nod or raise my eyebrows, which seems to please him. Then I enter the palace to relive particularly memorable sexual encounters or the time I caught a guitar pick thrown by Chris Cornell at Lollapalooza.”
Cynthia said she started carefully building the psychological architectural masterpiece shortly after Derek started CrossFit in 2015. Since then, she’s managed to remove almost all recollection of his 556 workout debriefs simply by leaving the memories outside the alabaster walls of her mental fortress.
“There’s always something about pull-ups, I think. Or maybe some woman named Cindy, who might be a real bitch. I seem to remember a lot of stuff about chalk.”
Derek said he really appreciates his wife’s continued support and attention: “I could have gotten a PR if I hadn’t broken the thrusters in the third round, or maybe if I’d worn my blue Nanos. My WOD tracker shows I was on pace until rep 67. Fucking Gary beat me by two seconds!”
Cynthia, furrowing her browns and shaking her head with deep concern, carefully arranged selected works of sculpture around the infinity pool on the west terrace of her mind palace before calmly slipping beneath the 82-degree water to swim beside three dolphins and a manta ray.