Sunday, February 19, 2012

152

A happy 152 months t my love, even if I'm spending more and more time in the office lately. One day this game will ship, and we can do back to that groove of normality. I love you so very much. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for being my love.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

151

Happy 151 months to my lovely wife, as we are currently housebound due to the constant snowfall in the Seattle area. I'm glad we are safe and warm together, and we both can laugh about cabin fever. I love you, my dear. In the next couple of weeks, we will celebrate an early Valentine's Day with applause and horses...and hopefully without snow.

Monday, December 19, 2011

150

A brief note for my love. We're in a massive push here on the game I'm working on. Longer hours, more stress. It'll be worth it, but I might not see a lot of you and the cats. I love you so much, and I'm happy you are so understanding. We'll have some time over Christmas. Then, it's back into the fray. But for now, happy 150 months, my love.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

149

To my love, happy monthly anniversary. I know things have been hectic on my end. Work seems to keep distracting me, attacking me, frustrating me...and it seeps out of me when I come home. I don't want to bring this home, and I hope you have seeing all that I have done to keep a barrier between the office and our little home. I love you, and every time I come home I know that this is a peaceful place, just for us and our cats. Thank you for reminding me. Thank you for loving me.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

148

To my love. I hope you have a wonderful day, my darling. Tonight, something low-key in tone and appearance. A quiet night with the cats, and you, and perhaps-sure-pizza. I know things have been crazy as of late. Work is ramping up, and it'll likely be crazy for a while now. It'll stay here. I know I've brought him frustrations and stress, but no, not again. Our home is supposed to be a haven, a tranquil spot away from the strain of outside. Tonight, we do that, being home and together. Nothing else.