On My Own

I bitch a lot when my husband is out of town, because I've been terrified of staying by myself for as long as I can remember. REALLY scared, as in not sleeping most of the night because of the noises I "hear" and the scenarios that occur to me at all hours. I've been known to beg (successfully) for family members from around the country to fly to see me when I know he is going to be out of town.

Over the years, however, I'm getting braver. I often actually find sleep (more easily with the help of a couple of glasses of Chardonnay), and I wake up with a feeling of accomplishment. I've even started looking forward to these times in the smallest of ways. It's nice for me and my picklebug to be on our own, to eat whatever we want for dinner, to not worry about getting home in time to prepare, to just bond a little more.

And while I would never wish for my husband to leave, and I rejoice when he comes back, sometimes I feel the slightest annoyance when he returns to his position and interferes the small routines or lacktherof that my picklebug and I have put into place.