At least, that's how I felt since last Wednesday. You see, my darling husband went to Colorado to hunt elk, and I stayed home with the wee ones. If you want to hear the rest of the story, grab a cuppa and settle in, because it's a doozie!
I got home from New Jersey on Sunday night. I was bubbling over with all that I'd learned, and excited from meeting so many wonderful people. I had it in my head that I would spend at least a week or so getting organized, writing all sorts of great stuff, cleaning the house. Oh, did I have plans. Well, guess what happened.
Monday, he stayed home from work because it was a holiday. He had lots of homework to do before his trip, so I went out on our normal Monday date to the Colonial Tavern by myself. I got home late, but he was still up. I was tired and went to bed, he stayed up and finished his homework.
Tuesday, he came home early, met me and the kids in town, and we had dinner. Then we went home and he tried to get last minute work stuff done. Finally, around 1am, he decided to start packing. Then he made a trip to Wal-Mart, came home and packed the rest of his stuff.
Wednesday, 330am, we left for the airport. We got up there around 5am-ish. I dropped him off and headed home. I crawled back into bed and stayed there for most of the day. I did make it out of bed long enough to take Gret to church, but that's about it.
Thursday, my friend Hannah insisted that I come to lunch with her. We went to a hookah bar. That was a first, but it was fun. Again, I went home and stayed in bed for most of the day.
Friday, I took my friend Kim to get a massage. This was a birthday present, but also because her husband was out on the mountain with my husband, and she literally hadn't left her house since the guys left on Wednesday. She takes it pretty hard when her man is gone, so the massage was really therapeutic.
Saturday, I went to work. I figured if I stayed home and in bed another day, Gret would get really worried.
Sunday, I made it all the way to church with the kids. We ate breakfast, then they went to Sunday school, then we left. I just couldn't be there any longer. I broke down and started crying, and so I just herded them up and left. Then I went to work again, and worked until close. That helped, as it kept my mind off the fact that I was going home to an empty bed.
Monday, I stayed in bed all day. I did, however, manage to still make it to the Tavern at night, so my friends didn't worry that I'd gone round the bend.
Tuesday, I stayed in bed all day, until the evening. Then Kim called. Her grandmother was dying, and her dad was in surgery. I went over and spent the night at her house, in order to leave for the airport at 3am.
Wednesday, I took Kim to the airport, then went home and cried, and stayed in bed most of the day.
Thursday, I had lunch with RENEE, then went to DC to get Shane.
So all those plans I had? yeah, well let's just say that my basement is not cleaned out, my desk is still piled high with papers, and my garage is still a mess. I got nothing done, unless you count reading about 10 books. I didn't even write, since I somehow managed to pull one of my cables from the back of my computer and couldn't get online for almost a week. Pathetic, isn't it?
And if that wasn't enough, after feeling like I got nothing done the entire time Shane was gone, in spite of having PLANS to get LOTS of stuff done, today I did the biggie -
I dropped my cell phone down the toilet, right as I started flushing it. My phone was in my pocket, and it slipped right out into the bowl. So I watched it flush, because my mind could just not grasp the fact that it plopped in there. I literally watched it get washed away. Well, almost washed away. Shane tells me that the toilet is now clogged. He got a new phone out of the deal, and I'm waiting for Kel to send me her old one.
So I couldn't call my friend Robin to tell her that I would LOVE to go with her to the VRW meeting, because her number is in my phone. And I couldn't call Kim to let her daughter talk to her, because my phone is in the septic tank. And I couldn't call Kelly to find out how her week went, because her number is on my phone, which is in the septic tank. Are you getting the picture? Good, because I'm not, because my camera is on my phone, which is in the septic tank.
So if you know me, then send me an e-mail with your phone number, because I don't have it anymore. Because it's on my phone. Which is in the septic tank.
On the bright side, Gret assures me that this is just the sort of funny thing that can happen to one of my characters in my next book. Is that supposed to make me feel better? Well, I guess it could be worse. It could be me in the septic tank.