Sunday

Sunday. I hate Sundays. Parts are good. Laughing right out loud while watching "So, I married an axe murderer". You know, lines about the "Pentariddon" and the addictive substance in KFC chicken, "a piper down", and the bit about the "big head like Spudtnik"! So funny!! I run upstairs because I think that Jurgen would think this was just as funny as I do, jump in bed and give him 100 kisses, laughing. He laughs, but thinks I'm wierd. Going for lunch, and doing what we seem to do every weekend, get a coffee at Starbucks and do some shopping.

Then, as the sun starts to get lower in the sky and it is no longer warming my house, he says he has to leave. I sit and stare out the door wondering how long I can do this? How long can I swing between the sheer joy of being together, and the complete destruction and depression of being apart? The sadness of knowing that I have to wait 5 more days just to get a glimpse of my husband in between his weekend of call. Knowing that after that it will be three weeks before we see one another again. Even Stupe was upset, although really for a different reason. She freaked out, ran, and hid under the bed. She wasn't sad he was leaving. No, she was just scared she would have to get in a car and go with him. Little does she know, she still has five days left.

My favorit day of the week is Friday. Fridays are short work days where half of the day is spent "learning" (or at least pretending to). Fridays are also generally the day when one of us drives to see the other. The driving is monotonous, just a means to an end, but the end result is what I look forward to. I don't even mind driving so much. It gives me a chance to think, really think. Also, I can listen to the music I like and sing my heart out! Funny what that does for the soul.

So, I while away the time, keep myself busy, work, study, and wait. Passing the time until the next Friday, dreading the next Sunday.