As of today, Alex has been gone for one whole week. I've been surviving the loneliness mainly by virtue of the fact that I have been busy 10, 050 of those 10,080 minutes. And those extra 30 minutes in there I was a zombie.
As my coach so aptly quipped (as he was hollering us up a hill at run practice), I have three jobs right now: my day job, my freelance work, and my training. I don't know why, but last week I told my freelance manager that, "sure, I can take on a few extra assignments." I mean, Alex would be gone and I'd have all this free time on my hands. Why I can't just hold onto that free time is beyond me. Anywho, so I've been working. A lot. And Alex has been gone. Right. We've established that.
Here's where I get to the point. Reason #1,832, 419 why I love my husband: he takes care of everything. Everything. While I'm out working, working, or working out, he's keeping our bills paid, our house picked up, our cats fed, their litter box clean, the trash taken out, the floors vacuumed, the mail picked up, the weeds pulled, and the dishes done. Yeah, and he works, too. And occasionally works out. I'm glad to be able to say that I knew and appreciated all the things that he did before he left. But I don't think I truly appreciated it until I was left to do all those things myself on top of what I was doing before.
I am trying gamely to do it all in his stead, but at this point, it's the desperate, nose-above-water treading.
I know I've told him that I appreciate him. But I want to say it publicly. My husband rocks the casbah.
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