Shouldn’t I be the one to be moody? I am the one left here. Alone. Eleven days. Depending on my parents to get OUR child from here to there so I can still work the job demanded by our budget. Am I saying things are unicorns and rainbows for him? No. But, do I give in to the “I don’t know what’s wrong with me” attitude? Yeah, I think not.
Remember, I’m that stubborn. I’ve been on this roller coaster when he was only standing in line. I know my feelings. You would thing 8 hours plus driving would give you insight into your feelings. But, apparently not. We are still at the “I’m just going to bed” stage of psychology. Great. I don’t know if I have the patience to figure it out. Haven’t I worked through enough?
No running. I understand that. I don’t have on my New Balance. I’m just frustrated. I can’t draw it out of him. I have no third world tactics of getting the truth. Sigh. He wants things to be different when he comes home. Every eleven days. How? Our life, my life, the penguin’s life, this life, it’s what it is. I can’t have champagne and streamers every time he comes home. I’ve just ran the dirtiest of the “Spartan” races with no training, by myself, keeping that penguin and this house standing. Doesn’t he get that?
No running.
Southern Belle on Caffeine 