...what my husband looks like if he doesn't come home soon. This has been a helluva long haul. He's often gone for extended periods when he works, but I guess this has been the only time that I've had a bun in the oven, and he's been so busy it's hard for him to call. He hasn't had a day off in two months, so he hasn't even been able to jet home for a day which is what he used to do. Ugh.
It's sad when someone has to call you from the car on their way to work, or from the bathroom on a break to get two words in. Sometimes the only way he can let me know he's still in the world is to send me text messages. Just like teenagers! He sounds like he's at the point of cracking--no-one's brain is built to look at a computer screen 16 hours a day for 8 weeks straight. And the date for his return keeps getting pushed further into the future. Originally he was only scheduled for six weeks. Now it looks like at least two-and-a-half months. And it's like (as he calls it) Survivor Island out there, as he watches more and more people get booted off the team. A friend of ours got the Tiki Torch of Doom last night...My husband's amazed he's weathered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune throughout, but he's also very, very tired.
And here I sit, getting pudgy and paunchy, growing this little alien being without my guy. It's a bummer.
I'm disinclined to bitch publicly about such matters, but dammit! After dealing with the bun by myself, and missing him so damned much, I feel that one day of bitching is acceptable. And then I will bring you our previously scheduled dopey anecdotes as usual.