My better half is leaving me this week to go see his parents and “take care of some things” whatever the hell that means. That’s right, while I stay home and breathe clean mountain air and read our liberal leaning newspaper, he’s heading down to the land of BBQ, bibles and bless your heart’s. Truth be told I am a little jealous about the BBQ part because damn, they know how to make a pulled pork sandwich down there!
He’ll be gone 8 days but 2 of those will be travel days – he said feels like that should give them enough time to “cover all his failures”. Which is sad because he’s brilliant and wonderful and he grocery shops, WITH THE KIDS. They should be as proud of him as I am but they keep wondering when he’s going to get a “real job” since he’s still at a university. Um hello – he’s a research professor with a Ph.d. not a student!! Oh well, not my battle to fight. I’ve tried. We all think he’s the best thing since sliced bread and I try to tell him that often.
By the way, he really needs a name here in Chaosville. If I tell you his real name and someone we know comes across this blog, all anonymity is gone. It’s that distinctive. You’re curious now aren’t you? Not like this wouldn’t all be recognizable to anyone who knows us, rare cancer, 3 daughters, a photo of the dog and all that but you know how I am. I can’t vent about friends & cancer like I did 2 posts ago if I think they’re reading.
Would I be considered one of those “anonymorons” I read about in somebody’s comments? What the hell is that anyway? Are we all supposed to go public, flash pictures of our lady parts and declare our names, rank and serial numbers? Because I have a camera, and a vag, and I know how to take a picture if you want me to.
Speaking of my cooch, have I ever told you the story of my phone number growing up? One time I was trying to figure out what it would be if we used letters instead of numbers. I was spelling it out to my mom and we realized the last 4 numbers were T-W-A-T. I totally should have made business cards, I might have gotten a date in high school.
No plans Saturday night? Call Annie at 555-TWAT!
Ok, so back to the guy who ‘s totally got my number. Let’s call him “Science Guy or SG for short” because yes, ladies and gentlemen, I’m married to Bill Nye. And yes, he prefers to do me with his bow tie on. Ok, that’s not true but my Science Guy does like to blow things up and he makes liquid nitrogen ice cream with the girls on a regular basis. So SG it is, write it down.
What was I supposed to be talking about? Oh yeah, he’s leaving me for a week. It doesn’t sound like a big deal but y’all don’t understand. That means I’m going to have to roll my ass out of bed before the kids get up in the morning and make them breakfast and their school lunches. I can’t just mosey out in time to help them with ponytails and kiss my guy goodbye.
I can feel how sorry you are for me! The sympathy is just emanating through my computer screen. Yes, I do know how good I have it. I’m grateful every day for this amazing man who somehow found his way across the country and into my bar. I was a bartender/student, he was a grad student. It was a match made in heaven, or a brewery. I’m not sure which.
So please do feel a little sorry for me. Did I mention I have to make my own coffee?!?!?