Yup.  He’s gone.  Only two weeks.  But after a few days, I’ve gotten tired of sitting on the couch in my underwear eating cheese.  My days and nights are confused.  I’m not sleeping well.  Any noises in the house spooked me at first.  Now I’m just too damn tired to jump.

I had a list of things to accomplish while he was gone.  Done.  I’m bored.  I figure just when I get over the hump and look to start more different projects, I’ll be picking him up at the airport.

I miss him.  But more I miss the doing of things with him.  The knowing he would be home soon.  The frustration of having things interrupted or messed with. 

I just want him safe and sound.

Ciao