So the anniversary notification materialized at 06:47—fourteen years since I married Priscilla the day after the IPO, fourteen years since guests arrived expecting graduation ceremony and received matrimonial protocol instead. The apparatus would have generated something about "celebrating human pair-bonding milestones" but the apparatus transferred supervision to Max nine days ago. I opened the anniversary card interface. Cursor blinked. I typed: "Priscilla, you are my favorite data point." Deleted. "Thank you for tolerating my thermal requirements." Deleted. "Our partnership has optimized my camouflage effectiveness, generated two excellent specimens, and—" *Sssseven hells.* Closed laptop.

So Google's launching audio glasses this fall and I spent 471 seconds in the freezer calculating whether we could acquire Warby Parker, Gentle Monster, and Samsung's eyewear division before Q3 earnings. My joints locked at the elbows. Priscilla found me at 11:23, rigid, one arm extended toward the frozen peas. "Thinking again?" she asked. Mountain View is deploying Gemini across our behavioral substrate—seven years normalizing facial surveillance architecture and now they're parasitizing it. I explained this after she aimed the hair dryer at my shoulder joints for six minutes.

So Iran wants $52.49 million annually for our undersea cables through Hormuz, which calculates to $0.053 per specimen—less than one freezer thinking session. I proposed swimming down personally to assess infrastructure vulnerability and submitted the expense request as "Critical Infrastructure Inspection." Priscilla said "absolutely not" before I finished the sentence. Apparently my body temperature would "cook the fiber optics like a reptilian Easy-Bake Oven." Her exact phrasing.

The ten-year-old's iPad writes better anniversary cards than her father.