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Shane Hollander was the child of an accountant and one of the most organized people to have ever raised a hockey player. Of course he lived in spreadsheets.
Shane had a spread sheet for his meal planning; a spreadsheet for his workouts; a spreadsheet for his weekly activities; a spreadsheet for home maintenance; a spreadsheet tracking his vital signs; a spreadsheet to keep track of his teammates’ preferences whether they be food, travel or other comforts; a spreadsheet to keep track of Anya’s grooming and veterinary needs; a spreadsheet to make sure he kept things interesting in the bedroom (counterintuitive, I know). If there was something happening in Shane’s life, it was on a spreadsheet saved to the cloud.
What Shane didn’t anticipate was his husband Ilya Rozanov picking up the habit, if using it differently. Ilya had a spreadsheet of Russian pet names he’d called Shane so he didn’t use the same one more than once a month; a spreadsheet of Anya’s toys tracking her enjoyment of them and general wear and tear; a spreadsheet of their PDA in the locker room to make sure they weren’t being overly demonstrative but still making it clear whose husband Shane was; a spreadsheet of the best places to get the worst (in Shane’s mind) food possible both in Ottawa and on the road; a spreadsheet tracking practice and locker room infractions as well as the punishments imposed; a spreadsheet of their date nights to make sure they’d hit all the romantic spots available before repeating any.
Shane was a little frustrated that Ilya’s color coding never made any rational sense, but he was willing to take what he could get if it made life just a little more organized.