Dr Pop has been at his National Sales Meeting since yesterday. He won't be home until Thursday. This is one of those trips he makes that I truly hate. He's gone so long!
In case you were wondering, I do have a little perspective. There are women whose husbands are deployed at war for months at a time. Women who worry constantly about taking care of their families at home while simultaneously saying prayers over and over again let him come home in one piece. I get it. There are women whose husbands are gone for weeks at a time so that they can earn a living in another part of the country. Women who hold down the fort endlessly, only to have a short time with their husbands until they have to turn around and say goodbye again. There are women whose husbands go off to fight fires and criminals, who may not come home again.
And then there's me. Little ole me bitching and whining about one little annual sales trip. Bitching about a night or two away here and there while he closes sales. The most dangerous thing he does is step on a plane or into a car.
BUT. I miss him. I'm lonely without him. Right now, his pillows are piled up right next to me, surrounding me. He's my rock and my reality check. And I like him to be here.
My parents have come down to stay with me, seizing the opportunity to spend some extra time with their grandson while I work. I'm thankful for them, even when I'm in a bad mood and just want to be alone in the quiet. Because as lonely as I get, I need quiet time, too. Time to just be at one with my thoughts and to let the day digest itself. Dr Pop gets that and gives me time to play a mindless game of Spider Solitaire (highly addictive, mind you) or two or ten when I get home from work.
We've lived together for over six years. He gets the adult me more than anyone else. When he's not here, the part of me connected to him is gone. I'm afraid I may have sent more than a few needy texts to him in the past two days, too. He doesn't need that.
But I can't wait for him to come home...