I can't believe it's March already! You know what that means? It's my birthday month. I do accept gifts in all forms. Goods, services, praise. March 22....one year away from 30. The sheer horror of it makes me want to vomit. I'm getting so old.
In other news, hubs is gone again. Blah. You all know how much I hate it when he leaves. It's been almost a year since he's had to travel for work. So I kind of got used to having him around. It's nice. I like having a present husband.
He left yesterday morning. He's only traveling domestic this time, so that's definitely a positive. A little bit less to worry about. But he's working 7 days a week, and nightshift on top of that. Our conversations are sure to be few and far between. He'll be gone for anywhere from 45-90 days. I told him if he's not home to mow the lawn, I'm calling breach of contract on this marriage. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I don't do outside work. It hates me. I hate it. When hubs signed on for this marriage, he signed up for ALL outside work, short of planting pretty posies and weeding flower beds. I don't mow lawns. I don't prune trees. I certainly don't mulch. And I absolutely don't use the weed whacker.
Call me stuck up. Call me a priss. Whatever, go ahead and hate. My allergies hate weeds, grass and pollen.
Last night was rough. You know what I'm talking about. The first night in your house alone. Every sound is suspicious. Is it an intruder? A ghost from the Great Beyond? A mouse? My imagination? That's probably more like it.
My attack dogs are less than vicious. But Peanut does alert me of any obscure noise. That's a blessing and a curse for sure.
On the positive side? Hubs has a job. A good one. It affords me the house that makes all the crazy noises at night (that certainly aren't there when he is.) And I'm truly thankful for that. And at this juncture, I'm way better off than him. Living in a tiny hotel room for that period of time? No thanks.
That's my life right now. Take it or leave it.