The Takeover

I’m sure I have a split personality. There is “Adam” and then there is “Monkey”.
Generally, I’m a pretty care free person who doesn’t really mind what happens in my personal life, however

Adam is the raging, stern-faced and employee feared monster.

"Ha ha, You all gonna suffer!"

And Monkey, of course the light-hearted, joking naughty little kid.

"Let's have some fun"

The takeover begins… of course when “Monkey” is around. And I only say “Monkey” because that’s what I am called most of the time. Not that I look like a monkey but probably this a nick name in my relationship, designed to subconsciously to put me in my place, so to speak.

And yes, chances are I will get hit with a frying pan when “she” reads this. Already as I’m typing this post, I can feel the blinding pain, the “clang” of hard metal smashing into my soft yet beautiful scalp.

Back to story, I stay in a modest apartment and as Monkey I have  little  no urge to make it look grand or beautiful. I’m 100% happy with the way it is. Yes it looks bare, yes it’s barren, and yes it could look better however, considering that I work most of the time and rarely have friends over there is no actual need to improve it . “She” has taken it as a personal mission to improve my living quarters, and I must admit “she” is damn good at it.

before

Compared to the bland unsightly hovel my apartment has been transformed into a joyous happy home where there are soft under tones of moods and colours, a hint of ying and yang. So now when I come home from work, a tired and beaten “Adam”, I can transform quickly into “Monkey” with the comfort and joy.

After

And at that point I must end it. Before you think I’m a complete Asshole know that I am really happy with what my place looks like now and I prefer being “Monkey”. Currently the score board looks something like this:

“She” 2341

 “Monkey” -513

  “Adam” 6

Thanks Baby for fixing my place!