My husband left two days ago for an 8 week training course in Virginia, and I'm rattling around the house kind of like a lost child at a carnival. I don't have to have certain meal times, I don't have to brush my hair, I don't have to even get out of my jammies if I don't want to. Sure it's neat to have the house to myself. For about 5 minutes.
I'm missing my husband something terrible. I have lots of time to write, read books, watch movies, play video games, do school assignments. I'd gladly trade all this freedom and "me time" to have him home, or for me to have gone with him. He's feeling the same, I know. We love to road-trip, and this is the first time he's taking one without me. Or alone at all, for that matter. He calls me a couple of times a day from the road. So far I've gotten calls from Abilene, Little Rock, and Memphis while I sit in front of my computer with a United States map on the screen and track his travels, wishing I were with him. And how pathetic does that make me?
I feel like "overly attached girlfriend", stalking his every move. I will admit I haven't taken a shower or changed out of the ratty clothes I've been wearing since he left. I did the same when he left for Iraq a few years ago. It takes me a couple of days of wallowing in sadness and depression, then I snap out of it before I sink too far. I only just realized today is Saturday, for Chrissake.
So today I'll shower, and change into clean clothes. I'll get in the car and go somewhere, just to get some sunshine and fresh air. When I get back home, I'll sit and write another chapter of my book and I'll feel some sense of accomplishment. Then it'll be what...noon? Yeah, I can see how these eight weeks are gonna go.
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