He wrote his dissertation on 19th century Russian Romantic poetry.
He taught college kids how to properly conjugate Russian verbs. That's how we met in fact - we both taught Russian as part of our graduate school duties, but he went on to become a full-fledged professor.
When we were newlyweds, I'd go to work every morning at the ad agency. When I got home, no matter the hour, there he'd be, sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by dictionaries and poetry collections and stacks of notecards, typing.
That was years ago.
So why do I still think this is so strange?