Sunday Night Sucks

Sunday nights really REALLY suck, because My Handsome Man and I sit around and know that tomorrow one of us has to leave the other before dawn, and then we don't see each other again until Friday. I guess in a way it's good- absence makes the heart grow fonder and we appreciate our time together more blah blah BLAH, but really it's just gotten to that point of annoying.

Maybe in 15 years I'll be glad to have an overnight break on a business trip or something. But that's a one time thing and this is 4 nights out of every single week. It's sad.

He's just the best guy out there. We giggle and get completely silly together (tonight we were talking to each other through tubes of contact paper). We also have serious talks about politics and science and the raising of future children. We sit on the couch and watch Iron Chef America (a regular Sunday night tradition now), and we also read in bed before we go to sleep. He makes me calm and feel good about who I am. He's also exceptionally good at seeing me through panic attacks, which all on its own is really impressive. I can't say for sure what I do to his personality when I'm around, obviously I can't observe it when I'm not with him. :) But I think he has fun with me. We're a good team. And tomorrow morning at 5:30 am I'm going to have to kiss him goodbye when he's all warm and asleep and tucked into bed, get in the car, and battle the traffic back home.

I'm not all that good a person though- it's a good thing we trade off weekends or I'd be resenting the early wake up. At least it's fair! But somebody's going to have to move soon. A hell of a lot easier said than done.