When the cat's away...
So, the Smelmooo was scheduled to be away for a work trip beginning on Saturday. I am always sad when he's gone: the house feels empty, I don't sleep well, Tucker is extra-anxious, I have no one to share the household chores.
But, particularly on the first day I'm flying solo, I have to admit there's a teensy piece of me that enjoys having sole control of the remote (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants! Save the Last Dance! 90210! All without judgment!), and relishes having some time to do the things that the Smelmooo doesn't enjoy: going shopping, getting a pedicure, making a stir-fry or ordering Indian food for dinner. And when the family reunion I was supposed to attend on Saturday afternoon got rained out, I started getting excited about doing all of those things.
And then, the Smelmooo's flight got canceled (I guess I did the "cancel the family reunion" rain dance a little too fervently, although I didn't intend it as a "ground all the flights out of Newark" dance), and he couldn't get another one out until yesterday. So, all of a sudden, we had an unexpected day together, and we just sort of blinked at each other for a minute, like, "What the heck do we do?!"
The Smelmooo kept joking that I'd need to call my boyfriend to let him know that the husband was staying in town, so once I took care of that, the Smelmooo and I rallied and made the most of our extra time together. We did boring stuff: ate lunch at the diner, stocked up on bulk items at BJs, went to a movie, walked downtown for dinner, played Wii, walked downtown for breakfast with Tucker. All, in the end, much better than shopping and a pedicure.
But I did give myself a pedicure last night, and I have been wearing my retainers practically 'round the clock. I did the laundry and the dishes. I made a stir-fry; I took Tucker for a walk/jog/run this morning (our speed was dictated by a complex formula involving our proximity to garbage trucks, morning commuters, and other dogs). I'm a wild and crazy gal.
And now I'm done. I've had my me-time; you can come home any time, hubby.
But, particularly on the first day I'm flying solo, I have to admit there's a teensy piece of me that enjoys having sole control of the remote (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants! Save the Last Dance! 90210! All without judgment!), and relishes having some time to do the things that the Smelmooo doesn't enjoy: going shopping, getting a pedicure, making a stir-fry or ordering Indian food for dinner. And when the family reunion I was supposed to attend on Saturday afternoon got rained out, I started getting excited about doing all of those things.
And then, the Smelmooo's flight got canceled (I guess I did the "cancel the family reunion" rain dance a little too fervently, although I didn't intend it as a "ground all the flights out of Newark" dance), and he couldn't get another one out until yesterday. So, all of a sudden, we had an unexpected day together, and we just sort of blinked at each other for a minute, like, "What the heck do we do?!"
The Smelmooo kept joking that I'd need to call my boyfriend to let him know that the husband was staying in town, so once I took care of that, the Smelmooo and I rallied and made the most of our extra time together. We did boring stuff: ate lunch at the diner, stocked up on bulk items at BJs, went to a movie, walked downtown for dinner, played Wii, walked downtown for breakfast with Tucker. All, in the end, much better than shopping and a pedicure.
But I did give myself a pedicure last night, and I have been wearing my retainers practically 'round the clock. I did the laundry and the dishes. I made a stir-fry; I took Tucker for a walk/jog/run this morning (our speed was dictated by a complex formula involving our proximity to garbage trucks, morning commuters, and other dogs). I'm a wild and crazy gal.
And now I'm done. I've had my me-time; you can come home any time, hubby.
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