At our Church, Bart works with the 11-year-old scouts. This means that, a couple of times a year, he goes on an overnight campout, and I'm left here alone.
I always think this will be fantastic: I don't have to make dinner, I can watch any movie I want, I can eat cookies for dinner, I can read late into the night, I can go shopping, etc., etc., etc. Sounds great! Sign me up!
And yet, it's never very fun. The library closed early and so I didn't have anything to read that sounded fabulous. I didn't have any movies to watch (they were also at the closed library). The effort involved in getting in the car and driving to Old Navy seemed unbearable. I'm a wimp - the house scares me a bit when I'm going to bed alone.
I could have called Ralphie, since her husband is also on the campout and her girls go to bed early, but then I'd just have had to come back to my dark and quiet house (both of my porch lights have suddenly gone out - what in the world?).
The thing is, Bart is fun to have around. Any movie I want to watch, he's more than happy to watch with me. He has no problem with letting me read for as long as I need. He never says anything if I don't want to make dinner (you wonder why we always have a large supply of frozen pizzas and raman on hand). Having him gone just means it's all just a little less fun.
Fortunately, now it's Saturday morning. The library is open again. An Old Navy trip suddenly doesn't seem so utterly overwhelming. The sun is shining (even if it's only 45 degrees outside - what is this?). And Bart is coming home this afternoon.
Oh and I dreamed about 24 last night - it's more fun when you're watching it on TV and not getting knives thrown at you or driving madly on rocky roads, hoping like crazy that the nut cases with guns aren't on your tail. It wasn't exactly a restful night's sleep.