Dear Dear Diary,
Saturday the BHE left for Greece. He is going to be working there for two weeks. He makes maps for USAID, and he is there to help illustrate what damage was done by the recent fires. And in case you are wondering what happens to your federal tax dollars, please rest assured that he is staying in a very swank hotel and having a wonderful time. Thankfully, I will be joining him there at the end of his trip and we are going to the island of Hydra for a long weekend. (Anyone been there? Have any suggestions? Should I expect very attractive people, or can I get away with not fasting and fake-tanning before I go?)
Anyway, what's more important is what I'm going to do in the 10 days before I meet him . You see, in our 4-year marriage (and 6-year cohabitation), we have only been apart for maybe 1 or 2 nights. It has been only 3 days, and I'm doing OK so far. And here is what I've learned:
- Generally speaking, cable is my second husband, HBO on demand specifically. Minutely, "Tell Me You Love Me." This is the kind of show that the BHE would never watch with me, so I am binge-ing on it.
- Also, pasta with clam sauce. The BHE is allergic to shellfish, you see. So I have been taking advantage of the opportunity to cram shellfish down my pie hole.
- Also, our cats are really annoying. The BHE has a long commute, and I have a very short commute. This works out very well for me because he gets up early and deals with all the animals and their needs, and once he leaves the house they come back to bed and are drowsy and satiated by the time I get up. But with him gone, my cats claw at my head and traipse all over my boobs starting at about 6:00 AM. Then the dogs get in on the action, tap-dancing on the hardwood floors of our bedroom, forcing me to get up WAY earlier than is natural for me.
- Also, I have discovered that if I want trash taken away from my house, I have to carry the bag out to this big plastic thing and then drag said thing down to the end of the driveway. WTF? Can't they come get it?
- Also, there is nobody here to talk me down from my anxiety attacks, so I end up asking my dog if it looks like there is a tumor growing in my eyeball, or if he thinks that I would really be a good mother.
- Also, I am actually watching the baseball playoffs because it reminds me of him, and tonight I noticed that his old nasty converse sneakers were sitting under the coffee table and I picked one up and SMELLED IT just to be reminded of him. Full disclosure: I am considering sleeping with it tonight.
So I realize with him gone how much I really depend on him, not just for the taking out of trash and the cleaning up of cat puke and the convincing me that everything is OK. But man, I just miss that guy. There is not enough cable to fill in the gap. (That was meant to sound poignant, but it just sounded dirty...)