letters from the past
By the time you read this, it will be August 31st. I’m writing it on the 24th and on the 24th, it is a very stressful day at work for me. And I miss my kid and my husband terribly. On the 24th, they are at the beach for five more days.
On a day like the 24th, what would keep me going is the thought of coming home and hugging my kid and then curling up next to my man at night. On the 24th, I can’t do that and due to poor cell reception I might not even be able to hear their voices.
On the 24th, I realize this and burst into tears at my desk.
What makes it even tougher is that I can’t make this post public and reach out to the people who help to hold me up. “I’m alone in my house and emotionally vulnerable and therefore probably drunk!” doesn’t seem like the best thing to post to the internet.
August 31st, 2009 at 9:49 am
Aw, lady. I am sorry. And not to add insult to (past) injury, but that picture of the baby on Flickr? Yes. He totally looks like a little man. A LITTLE MAN. No baby included.
But now it’s the 31st! Woo! Family is back, and it’s no longer the 24th!
August 31st, 2009 at 1:22 pm
aww. that sounds like an awful day. glad it is behind you.
September 1st, 2009 at 1:33 pm
Today is the first and your guts have been, one hopes, pieced back together, but FYI for next time, it’s cool, and indeed encouraged to call for West Coast backup.. I can make a cocktail at mines and we can get intelligent on tequilla, limeaid and video chat. Hit me up.