Chardonnay, CableTV, Carmine the Beautiful

I've done a couple of less than thought-out things lately. Or
perhaps, more accurately, the devil in my psychomachia fast tracks a
few of the reasoning capabilities so that deciding to buy an
incredibly large piece of home entertainment is taken care of in the
amount of time it takes to find a salesperson.
I bought a TV. No, a TV is something that your grandparents had. I
bought a flat-screen, high-definition, LCD panel magic-maker. I've
named it Carmine. Carmine is SO pretty.
So I'm sitting here waiting for the damn cable guy to bring me
resolution, waiting for him to deliver what I'm absolutely certain
will be the last plank of wood that held me above total and utter
sloth-status. He's bringing me hours and hours of programming. I am
scared of him and what he will do to Carmine - he will make her even
more beautiful and he will make her speak 273 languages and I, I who
has hopes of being productive all but 7 hours of each day - - I am a
sucker for a linguist.
That is all that is NEW. The level one Sommelier certification has
come and gone and I have passed it. On to level 2 where everything is
more specific and the wines all taste (to me anyway) the same. At
least before when he put down 4 white wines they were all vastly
different. Now that we're ADVANCED people, we've got 4 Chardonnays
grown in 4 different soils that all taste - I kid you not - like
Chardonnay.
Kris and I can't seem to figure out what we're doing. We're staying.
We're going. We're saving. We're spending. We're working - oh, we hate
(HATE) work. We're schooling, we're not schooling . . . it goes like
this every day.
"Do you want to move to another city?"
"It's 11:30pm."
"Yeah, so?"
"Well then, no. I'm tired. Maybe we'll move to another city tomorrow."
"You've got class tomorrow."
"Friday - we'll move on Friday."
"I have a double on Friday."
"Maybe next week."
"I've got a test next week."
"Ugh."
"Yes, Ugh."

Once again, dialogue tags are absent for the same reasons they were
during our Wet&Wild Headed West Adventure - - we take turns having
tests, working, being tired. I think I've forgotten what she looks
like if she's wearing something other than pajamas or her work
uniform.
"Are you flirting with me? Do I know you?" I'd say to her.
"Shut up," she'd say.
"My girlfriend is around here somewhere in her pajamas, and if she
sees me with you wearing those jeans and that tank top – she's going
to think something is up."
"Shut up," she'd say sweetly but just as much firm resolve as if said
any other way.
"Oh, Kris, it IS you. . . I almost didn't recognize you like this,
it's been weeks."
"Shut up."