apprehensive

I am having the most boring of Sunday mornings. Merce is in town, picking up a friend from a rather unfortunate incident and I'm trolling around on the internet.

I've spent the last hour or so going through the archives of this blog. I am definitely bookmarking that one. It is like a 'sex and the city' for the internet, although Wombat would be an exception, being a man, and from Australia, at that. I adore it. Good call, BzBiff.

Went out last night. Big surprise there. There was a bachelor-ette party which really consisted of 4 girls and they left after we had been there for about an hour.

I am sad that the handsome boy is gone. I hate that he works so far away and only comes home intermittently. I hate that once he leaves, I am at first relieved that life returns to normal and then the blues come afterward, once the reality of him having been here and gone sinks in. And 'normal' life is so b o r i n g when he is not around.

Although, summer being on the horizon is bringing aspiring adventures, daily. Camping trip in 2 weeks. At first, I was hesitant. I didn't want to go and be the only one 'unpartnered' (sometimes, being single is a little bit embarassing, especially when couples are sneaking off in the dark to their tents and there you sit, by the fire, thinking about going to bed, but not really wanting to go alone cuz it's dark and there are bugs and boogermonsters, mountain lions and unannounced midnight visitors out there!!). I didn't want to go and only know 4 or 5 of the people there. It's kind of a daunting situation to be in, out in the middle of the forest with a bunch of drunk, high strangers. Brings to mind all sorts of scary movies involving weirdos with facial hair and chainsaws. But then, N, said that she would go and since we all look to her to be the mother of the group and our own protector, I will go and I will probably have a ball.

Although, on the flip side, when I committed to going, it never really occurred to me that the 'no kids policy' meant that I would spend not one, but TWO nights away from my beloved boy and when Merce brought it up in regards to something that BzBiff said, tears welled up in my eyes and I felt like copping out. Merce, however, won't let me. Oh my god.

I will spend 95% of the time, wondering what is going on back here at home. Are the babysitters keeping a close eye? Is he playing in the street? Is he afraid that the house is going to burn while I am gone? Is he crying? It's the last one that puts the lump in my throat. I can't stand the thought of him being afraid and crying for his mama while she is cavorting about in the forest, companied by drunk, high strangers. (For the record, while I might be in the company of drunk and high strangers, I will NOT be high, drunk - more than likely. I just say NO to drugs, at least until the bet is over!).

All part of the growing up and growing apart process, I guess.

This will be the first time that I will be away from him, planningly, over night. And the absolute first time I will be away from him for more than 18 hours. I'm a bit apprehensive, if you all couldn't tell.

Well, I think I'll be off. I am going to scrounge around in my bare cupboards in search of some sort of sustenance for lunch, or brunch, whatever. Food.