Failure to Communicate #1

I just worked 40 hours in two days.  While this isn't unusual, it leads to conversations like this.

Boyfriend: 'I unplugged the toilet.'

O.o ????

The toilet has no electrics.  We live in a rental, why did you remove the toilet from the wall?! I'm having visions of grey water all over our second floor apartment, and he's sitting watching anime perfectly calmly.  I start having a babbling, confused fit.

He watches, face ever so carefully neutral, eyes shining. 'The toilet was clogged.  I unplugged it.'

OH. RIGHT.  When overtired, I forget that many words have more than one meaning.

I go to make use of our pristine, functioning bathroom, gales of laughter following in my wake.

'My girl is special.'

Yup.  That's me.  'Special' is a great word.  So many inferences.

I'm just glad the toilet works.

I have a anti super hero alter ego

I bet you do, as well.  My inner super hero is not so super.  I call mine Captain Spaz.

This morning, CS freaked about going to the accountant, parked the car three different times because ... actually, I still can't figure out why the first two weren't good enough.

Usually, Captain Spaz is fairly under control.  Taxes always get us going though - not that I've ever had a real reason for concern.

Between that, my computer expressing its continued dominion over the sad, foolish meat thing that keeps trying to trick it into running software, and other fun stuff, my anti hero has been running strong.

Captain Spaz is the part of my brain that insists on losing my keys, phone, wallet, shoes, and the bits of assurance that go along with knowing where the aforementioned items make their domain.

Who is your inner anti super hero?