We dumped our TV.
Okay, so we didn't dump it, we loaned it to SuperCoolMatti for an unspecified amount of time. Probably around a month, because I'm really not sure I'm going to survive this.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. I tend to take my lunchbreaks in front of TV just because it's there, and resisting the siren call of daytime television is well beyond my puny self discipline powers. So I lose 30 minutes to an hour a day sucking down any amount of ridiculous rubbish and can slowly feel my brain dissolving. Evenings aren't terribly much better and I think I've absorbed all the possible crime storylines I can without starting to develop a serial killer presonality of my own.
So that was it, we decided. The television must go. And so we drove it across Berlin and lugged it up five stories, then put a big armchair in it's place with a pile of books ready next to it.
Last night we had dinner on the dining table and had a conversation - an novel experience. Apparently I married a kinda interesting guy. Who would've thought it? After working for a while, we then pulled out a board game and played a few rounds. Won one, lost one, but that doesn't really matter because we can play it as often as we want now.
But the question remains: will our marriage survive this much contact?