Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde?

A few months ago, Mr. spearheaded this project doing something for a surgeon with a couple of his classmates. I don't know much about the project except that it meant even more time spent in the anatomy lab and that Mr. was the lead med student on it.
Well, somehow between helping first years with anatomy, sitting on the board for the student-run free clinic, finishing 2nd year, studying for the boards, and dealing with a long commute and even longer hours, he dropped the ball and hadn't yet gotten around to contacting the surgeon about writing up an abstract. It had been on his mental to-do list for some time, but sometimes people just beat you to the punch.
Luckily, the guy who beat him to the punch this time was a nice guy who gave him a heads up before doing so. Via text message, Mr. originally said it was fine that the other guy write the abstract. But the thing is, it wasn't fine. This was his project. He and I talked it out, and I advised him to just be honest with his classmate about how he was really hoping to be first author, etc. From what I could tell only hearing one half of the conversation, I think his classmate was understanding. Crisis averted.

Mr. spent the rest of the night editing another abstract written by a PhD whose first language is not English. I'm pretty good with grammar (not always apparent on here), so I tried my hand at it. Unfortunately, I don't spend my days reading science experiments, so I wasn't sure if I should be fixing all of those sentences written in passive voice or if I should just leave them. I think I'll stick to proofing legal documents.

Mr. (Dr. Jekyll) didn't mind, though, and took back over the editing.


This morning, Mr. (aka Mr. Hyde) and I got into a playful argument that started about McCain's VP Choice, then moved on to Bloomberg and peoples' desire for him to be president, to McCain's senility, and then I looked at my watch to see where I should be in my morning routine. It was 7:25, and since Mr. typically leaves at 7:15, I said 'don't you have to leave?' To which he replied 'yes' and went on his way.

5 minutes later I get a text message from Mr.:
"don't you have to leave?". Glad to know I'm wanted in the house.

Sarcasm or anger? Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde? I suspect it was the latter, but as my first instinct was sarcasm, I went with it:
lol. I love you, baby. Just didn't want you to be late as it seems you normally leave around 7:15/7:20.

Above comic by Michelle Au. Ever since STM linked the underwear drawer to our site, I've been reading the archives from 2004 to now. I think Mr. is either a Gunner, a One-Track Mind, or Painfully Enthusiastic. This morning I picture him as a gunner. Thus, the unnecessary frustration.