…shouldn’t admit this, but I woke up this morning and thought “Oh good. It’s Saturday. I am so ready for a few days of solitude.”
Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband. He is the saint everyone thinks he is. The characters I write are loosely modeled on him (maybe I shouldn’t have said that because when I get published the female throngs may be beating down the door…) but sometimes, I need the house to be empty and I haven’t had that for a while. If I could pack the cats off to a kitty spa, I would – but they’re not into that and as long as I don’t pull out the treats, they’re usually quiet.
From what I understand of his schedule this month, I may say “Who are you?” by June.
I’ve been married for thirteen years (in June) and I’ve known him for eighteen. I don’t think I’ve kept in constant contact with anyone else for a longer period of time. And it really is true – it doesn’t feel like I’ve been married to him for thirteen years. Or that I’ve known him for eighteen. You’d have to ask him if he feels the same way and whether or not you’d get an honest answer… I don’t know.
I do know there were some rough spots, there always are. At least ours could be fixed with surgery (I had an issue that made me a little, or a lot, on the nutty side but three surgeries later, I’m better now). If you’re expecting all sunshine and kittens when living in close proximity to another human being, well, good luck with that.
I’m really hoping to get a lot done while he’s gone. I’ve got to buckle down and focus so I can get this book thing off to my first readers. I won’t be thinking about making dinner or what we’re going to do that evening, or even keeping the house clean – at least until the night before he gets back… and I will be very happy to see him when he walks through the door.