For the love. I have a whole other month left. [
Mentally screaming my head off.]
But let's talk about how apathetic I am about life right now. I should be washing baby clothes and setting up the crib, but the indifference is numbing. Plus, with the advent of school, I've been inundated with birthday parties, homework, piano lessons, mom breakfasts and parent-teacher conferences. All I want to do is sleep! And eat mango frozen yogurt with lots of toppings.
I had a dream last night that Bruce and I died and no one was available to take our children. Not our parents, not our siblings. No one. So they were going to a Mexican orphanage. Worst. dream. EVER. I was so grateful when I woke up, that I reached over and grabbed a chunk of Bruce's hair and just held on. He was still sleeping, so I don't think he registered the desperation in my fingers.
Speaking of Bruce, he is still at the office and it's past midnight. He's been traveling to Brazil a lot lately, but this week he was able to finally stay home. Or at least not get on an airplane. I like knowing he is within close proximity in case of emergency or bad dreams.
I started taking Spanish lessons again. My teacher is 71-years-old and crazy. She laughs at the most inane things and giggles like a 12-year-old girl. She's tiny with a closely cropped head of auburn hair and wears thick, black glasses and long-sleeve, button-down shirts that are usually colors like fuschia and lime green. She always has something in her teeth, and it requires superhuman effort to avert my eyes, especially as she is always smiling. Hugely. She also thinks I'm hilarious, which just makes it worse. So for a while, I tried to say less and less, but it hasn't worked out for me. Again, it's a Spanish class and conversation is mandatory. Now I remember why I had stopped.
She's nice, though.
This morning, Bruce and I drove to the gym together. Have you ridden with Bruce? It's frightening. He was made to drive in Mexico. I white-knuckle grip the door handle every time, and sometimes feign sleep just so I don't have to look at the road while he drives. So this morning he almost ran over a pedestrian, but then had second thoughts and waved the middle-aged lady across the street. Then he looked over at me with a smile and said, "That was my good deed for the day." Sometimes I don't know why I married him either.
But Bruce, if you're checking my blog in between report edits, come home now. I miss you.
