One of these days, the unexpressed thoughts may prevail

The following roughly describes a typical morning at my house (all times are approximate):

5-5:30am: I wake up and go downstairs to make and eat breakfast.

5:30-6:30am: I retreat to my office to read the Times online, pay bills, answer e-mails, etc.

5:30-6:00am: RM wakes up, does his elaborate hygiene and beauty routine, goes downstairs to have breakfast.

6:00-6:30am: RM leaves the house.

6:30-6:45am: I go downstairs, feed Gracie, finish getting ready for work, and leave.

On a good day—-which, up to this week, has not been atypical—-the above transpires without my finding myself in the same room as RM at any point. Lately, however, he’s been leaving for work later, which puts him at breakfast just as I am getting ready to leave the house. Kevin and I often coexisted in the same space as we got ready for work in the morning, but Kevin never felt the need to engage me in inane conversation (or offer to get up from his breakfast to open the door for me or lock it behind me). If one of us had something to say, we'd say it. But we didn't say stupid-ass things just to hear our own voices.

In contrast, here's the conversation I had to endure this morning:

RM: Are you biking today?
A., not out loud: Nope. I'm wearing these athletic clothes and shoes because I'm going straight to an important meeting.
A., actually: Yup.

RM, upon seeing me put on gloves: Are you usually cold when you bike?
A., not out loud: Yes, usually. I'm not sure why it only occurred to me this morning to put some gloves on--it can't have anything to do with the fact that it's colder this November morning than any other morning that I've biked to work since you moved in in April. I really was equally cold in the spring, summer and early fall months, but just never thought to bundle up.
A., actually: I am now that it's getting colder.

RM: In any case, it's good exercise, biking for a whole hour!
A., not out loud: Really?
A., actually: Forty-five minutes.

RM: Let me get the door for you.
A.: That's alright; somehow I've always managed to make it through the door with my bike on my own. Interrupting your breakfast to get up and open the door would not only be over the top, but would also just put you in my way.
A., actually: No, thank you.