What’s the worst profession when it comes to choosing a partner?

Murder mysteries are the worst. Often, we’ll be 10 minutes into the program and Jocasta will have successfully predicted the identity of the killer, the method of death and the clue that will give it all away.
Halfway through I might say: “Well, this time you are wrong. The police clearly think James the vicar did it, and certainly the evidence is entirely convincing.”
At this point, Jocasta will then look at me with weary compassion and say: “There are still 25 minutes to go, so it can’t be him. Besides, The Fisherman is certain to return to the screen. He’s played by an actor who is way too famous to only have one short scene right at the start. So, he’s the killer.”
Ten minutes later, The Fisherman will be arrested, in a dramatic scene where Mr Famous Actor gets to show off his acting chops, after which he won’t leave the screen until the end credits.
“Told you so,” Jocasta will chirp, having wrecked yet another night of televisual entertainment.
Sometimes it seems downright creepy. This week, we watched a romantic comedy set in Spain. “Oh, no,” I said to her, “that police officer has just stopped them, probably for speeding, and she might then impound the car, which means they’ll never get to the wedding.”
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“I wouldn’t worry,” said Jocasta, “she just wants to give him back his wallet. Remember? He lost it in episode one, which seemed a pointless piece of plotting unless they were planting that information for later use. Also, in what possible romantic comedy do the main characters fail to make it to the wedding?”
I can see her point. It’s still annoying.
Later, in the same show, a narrow road was blocked by a truck, with the driver refusing to reverse.
“He should just back up,” I said, relying on my extensive experience driving Australia’s narrow dirt roads.
“He can’t reverse the truck,” replied Jocasta, “because there’s an angry bull in the back of the truck.”
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Five minutes later, the drama got to the point: the driver couldn’t reverse because there was an angry bull in the back of the truck.
At which point I gave up – both watching the drama and trying to understand the workings of my wife’s mind.
So, “drama writer”, when it comes to living with one, gets my vote for the world’s most annoying occupation. But I will accept some last-minute entries.
Living with a teacher probably goes well until they use their “teacher voice” to correct your poor behaviour. How awful would that be? A therapist would be a terrific partner, except when they interrupt an argument to say: “And how does that make you feel?” And a politician would be great until you asked a simple question – “Did you remember to buy milk?” and “Where did you put my shirt?” – and they found themselves unable to give a straight answer.
So what’s Jocasta’s vote for the worst life partner?
“Newspaper columnist,” she says, without hesitation. “You make a few idle observations while watching television in the privacy of your own home, and suddenly, it’s in the newspaper. Talk about annoying!”