The Hub travels for work. He has a fair amount of flexibility as to when he goes, but lots of his responsibilities require being other places for short periods of time.
He traveled quite a bit in his previous job, and after him being out of work those months, I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth because he has a great job that he is insanely good at – and I am so proud of him every day.
He arrived home this morning from a trip that was slightly longer than usual, probably walking through the front door almost literally as I was walking out the back. I have to tell you, I found myself jealous of the dog this morning as I left, because Potter will get to see him the second he walks in the door; while I have to cool my heals at the office all day before I get him in the sight of my sore eyes.
I don’t know why, maybe it was the couple extra days, or even the idea of them, but this one hurt. This time I was sad. I really, REALLY missed him. Like, “listening-to-Gary-Allan-songs, watching-Lifetime-Movie-Network-in-the-dark-with-a-vat-of-liquid-cheese, crying-into-the-dog’s-fur” kind of missed him. Like bad. Like whoa.
I am always fine when he has to travel – I go to happy hour, cook things he doesn’t eat, leave the dishes piled in the sink overnight, sleep with the TV on because I can, and generally embrace the “me time.” But not this time. This time I didn’t feel like I had the energy to do anything.
I know it is very important for our family that he goes where he needs to go to bring home the bacon and all that, and I also know that he is really REALLY good at his job and seems to enjoy it for the most part.
I also know that I am really glad that this leg of it is over, and I can’t wait to get home tonight.