I have no f*cking clue what to do, you guys.
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Whatever, your husband is literally Jay Z. |
She was hella excited.
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Literally wiener-dog-on-the-beach excited. |
Anyway, she left for Corpus at oh-dark-thirty this morning, and she's texted that they arrived safely. Yay.
Guess what? The last time I was neither a wife nor a mother was 1990.
Twenty-seven goddamn years if you're counting. Considerably more than half my lifetime ago.
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Sure, right? |
Drummer Boy is going to spend Saturday night and Sunday with me. But until then, I'm on my own. With a Siamese kitten and a guinea pig. That's all.
I feel as if I should be totally better equipped to be single and independent for a couple of days.
Yet...kind of I'm not.
Some background.
In 1987, I lived at home, attended university, and had not yet met my future spouse.
My parents went out of town for a few days and left me home alone. You know, because I was all mature and grown-up and whatnot.
You guys, I freaked out.
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Exclusive content, you guys. |
The point is, a few brief months later I started going with my future spouse, and for the next 25 years or so, I was never alone.
And then...my marriage ended, and PDaughter and I moved into our little apartment. And I was never alone.
And now she's on a band trip. In Corpus Christi. Four hundred miles away.
I know she's having an amazing time.
I'm happy for her.
Still...
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Commodores reference for the win, absolutely. |
Despite all evidence to the contrary.
I am trying.
It's hard. Surprisingly hard.
I have new admiration for parents who go through this as a matter of routine. Really.
I'm just going to be a mess until PDaughter comes home to me.
Totally.
She's going to have a great time in Corpus Christi.
I'm going to be a wreck until she gets home safely.
...
That's just me.
<3
Empty nest syndrome.
ReplyDeleteYou're an interesting, thoughtful, intelligent person. This might be a good opportunity to get to know yourself.
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