on the road again

Ron doesn't like me to broadcast when he's out of town because I guess he thinks all of my Face Book friends are, in reality, horrible serial killers and time the plan of the demise of their victims based on FB posts.

So, for the record.  Ron's not out of town.  For real.  But he was gone Monday-Thursday this week.  First in Tennessee, then Alabama and then back to Tennessee.  And wouldn't you know it there was a time difference in each place, so in one day he changed time zones four times.

There should be some sort of Workers' Comp for crap like that.  Circadian Rhythm Relief.

Ron generally travels in spurts, being gone three weeks in a row to three different job sites.  Then he's home for a while and then he's gone.  It's not an easy rhythm to adjust to...kind of like jazz (boo).

When he tells me he's going on a trip, I get all like "Whhhhhyyyyyyy do you have to leave me againnnnnnnnnnnnn?"  As soon as I've made him feel sufficiently guilty, I start a mental note of all the things I can do when he's gone...

*stay up as late as I want
*sleep in as late as I want...OK, I do that whether he's in town or now, but I feel sneakier about it when he's gone
*eat Cheerios, Cream of Wheat or Lean Cuisine Chicken Alfredo for every meal
*bribe the kids into going out to eat with me
*watch as much bad TV as I want without him accusing me of plotting his murder.  I actually watch more cooking shows when he's out of town, but I guess adding the right/wrong ingredient...
*paint to my heart's content on my ginormous paint-by-number masterpiece.  That is, until we got Piper, who has put the kibosh on my creations for the time being.  It's hard to paint when you've got a kitten in your face.

At this point, it's rather remarkable (scary) how fast I fall into "Gone Ron" mode. There's a freedom knowing that I don't have to fix a good dinner every night, or wonder if I'll have the car for the day, or if I'll need to do some research in order to have scintillating dinner conversation.

Who am I kidding?  Our conversation is generally along the lines of "Why did you buy a vowel, you idiot???"

Yesterday he called me all excited and said, "Guess what?"  I got all prepared for something really stupendous.  "I'm getting home five hours early!"

"Awesome" is what I said.  "Crap" is what I thought.  There goes my evening of binge-watching "Chopped" and my dinner of Trader Joe's chicken Parmesan lolly pops.  Bummer, man.

That was my initial thought.  My second thought was that I was glad he'd be home early so he could get a good night's sleep after time zone hopping all week.

That, and I'd been missing his lovely kisses all week.

Next time...a Downton Abbey character study

Oh, and FYI...look for some rePosts from the Past every weekend...