On the Road Again

I haven't been up to writing.

Actually, I haven't been up to much of anything.

I started a temp job at a marketing firm in Hawthorne. It's actually a cool little job. I'm the only admin assistant to the entire office. It keeps me busy and happy. And a little sane, too, now that I have a weekly pay check.

So... I wake up to the alarm at 6:30. Snooze it 'till Brian forces me into the shower. Bathe. Make-up. Find decent clothes that most likely have to be ironed five minutes after I should already be in my car. Get to work at 8:30 and begin my day. At 5:00 on the dot I am out the door. At 5:30 I am at the restaurant to change in the bathroom to begin my shift there. Eat dinner while standing. Wait on tables until its over. Then walk home with a pocketful of cash. Walk in the door. Say hi to my husband. Change into pajamas and plop on the couch until I fall asleep while catching up on my DVR'ed General Hospital.

Then I wake up the next morning and do it all again.

I know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I know that the benefits of working my ass off will show themselves to me eventually. I try to focus on the fact that two months ago I was in Africa. That couldn't have happened if we didn't work this hard.

So... I keep on trucking.

But I am feeling lonely. I am missing my husband. I hate that we have opposite schedules. I hate that when I come home he is usually in bed and I am wide awake... wanting to drink wine and hang out with him. I wait for weekends so that we can lay in bed and talk. Sometimes I feel distance building between us because we are away from each other so often during the week. Then the weekend comes and we cuddle and talk for hours. We live in our bed...make love, roll around and laugh. Order take out so we don't have to put clothes on. Ignore the phone calls, watch movies and snooze. Our whole universe is under those sheets. My fears are gone.

Before I know it... its Monday morning and I am saying goodbye to him again.

I want more for us. I hate that this time in our lives has us being slaves to our paychecks. I know that this will all be a bad dream eventually. In the meantime, I am glad to know that I can trust him to continue to love me... to love us... even while we are living our relationship through text messages and emails.

Last night, we went out for dinner at my restaurant. (I know how monotonous.) We walked around the corner, hand in hand. Ordered some good Negro Amaro wine. Ate a loaf of bread straight from Arthur Ave slathered with fresh imported olive oil. Housed two bowls of Spaghetti bella Napoli with fresh mozzarella, basil and tomato sauce. Then we talked. And drank some more.

We had a long talk. We had more than that. We had a moment in time where I couldn't hear or see anything else but him in front of me. I listened to him talk and I watched his lips and his eyes. I realized right then and there how much I love this man. How lucky I am to have a best friend in a husband. All of a sudden it just all made sense. All the work. All the struggle...
"We are going to have the life that other people dream of."