Friday, July 31, 2009


So, yesterday at 3 PM, Husband called and said he had landed safely at the airport and would be calling me in a few short hours to pick him up. (He was returning home from a business trip.) Well, I'm a nervous, busy, hyper-active person by nature, so waiting for 2 to 3 hours is very, very, very, VERY difficult for me. I can't wait for anything. I'm the most impatient person I know. So much so that I often just do everything myself because I'm too damn impatient.

If you know me, you know that I will cut you off mid-sentence and finish your thoughts if you are taking too long to tell me something. I will finish your sentences because you take too fucking long to talk and my adult ADD won't wait for you to finish your long ass thought about nothing. No, my eyes will see something shiny and be drawn to it, and you will be left standing in the dust still trying to find the words to tell your stupid, useless story. And I will have found the shiny thing, cleaned it, organized it, and even told a story about it to the nearest stranger all while I'm waiting for you to finish your stupid story about nothing. Yes, I'm quite impatient. Overly impatient.

So, for me to wait possibly 3 hours for Husband to come home was just nearly impossible. I paced. I cleaned. I called every person I know to help pass the time, as I paced. I think I wore a hole in the carpet pacing!

As I was talking to Sister on my cell phone, trying to pass the time, the door bell rang. I thought it was the crazy Japanese newspaper salesman who comes by once a week trying to sell me a subscription to a newspaper I can't read, but instead it was Husband. I was in utter shock! He had made it home in record time and a co-worker had brought him to our apartment. He said he tried to call a billion times, but it kept going to voicemail. Damn cell phone!

So, there he stood in the hall, looking incredibly dark, buff and so good to me! So good! I jumped on him and nearly broke his back. I just couldn't let go. I didn't want to let go. It felt so right, so good, so wonderful, so perfect to hold him in my arms.

I know this sounds cheesy, so grab some crackers because it's going to get cheesier!

I felt complete to hold my husband in my arms. Granted, he had only been gone about 3 weeks, but those were 3 long, boring, miserable weeks filled with rain, gloom and a longing for Husband. At some point during his trip, my heart actually ached for him. I guess distance truly makes the heart grow fonder. Or maybe I'm just dependent on Husband for my happiness. Whatever it is, I'm just so eternally grateful that Husband is home safe and in my arms. I will never let go. So, if you see a really dark, buff, MexiPino (half Mexican, half Filipino) man with a midget, Mexican momma with red hair permanently attached, that would be me never letting go of Husband. And I mean NEVER letting go! I'll have to be surgically removed!

(Oh, I forgot to mention I dyed my hair red. Yes, red. More on that later.)

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