My husband is away this weekend presenting a paper at a conference, and my lack of vacation time kept me from tagging along, which is absolutely nerdtastic but disappointing nonetheless. This academic journey of his has become more of a team effort than ever, with both of us sharing the uncertainty and burdens and changes that have rolled in. So, I'm sad to miss this first, more public accomplishment in person. But hopefully it's just the first of many.
In the meantime, Introvert Anna was really really REALLY looking forward to some alone time. Not that I expected the routine would really differ from when he's home; it's not like I go to bed with a full faceload of makeup or have perfect hair around the clock when we're both here, and five days alone means a break from that or anything. I expected to function pretty much the same, other than maybe cooking something I know he doesn't like and watching stupid tv that would otherwise invite him to mock me.
But heavens to mergatroid, people, have I ever felt like a single parent this week. And I'm not even a parent to a human. Granted, my child is a fairly high maintenance dog, and cannot be carried around in my purse for my convenience. The poor guy has sat alone for whole days while I'm at work, and then to attempt to make it up to him I've taken him for a long walk, sprints fetching at the dog park, and an exhausted walk home. On Wednesday, this was followed by a trip to the grocery store, the liquor store for some wine, and then a round of dishwashing(which is quite the undertaking without a dishwasher, sometimes) and risotto cooking. And then I turned around and it was 8:45. And I hadn't even eaten yet. Since I had to be up at 5:30 the next day I should have just skipped a few steps and eaten in bed to save time.
Now, those of you who are parents to one or more human children, don't even comment. I know what you're going to say. I promise. And I know that I DON'T EVEN KNOW how crazy nuts it can be. And really, I'm not worn into the ground or anything- but I am very glad it is finally Saturday, and I don't have a schedule looming over me and gobbling up all this alone time I thought I was going to get to savor all by my sweet self. I guess it's good to know that I can get done what needs to get done, even if I don't love how a touch of bitter disappoinment tastes going down.
Even now, I need to chase down all the black Toby-hair dust bunnies running amuck, and scrub the bathrooms down. But, those don't have to get done. What does have to get knitted is a wee baby blanket, and of course I can't do that without a cup of tea and a movie. My prioritizing skills are remarkable, I know.