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Yeah Yeah

It's Friday.   I'm ready for you to come home. 

I dreamt dj sent me a package. It was a battleship game. Some weird jewelry,  and cryptic notes that I kept reading , looking for clues as to what's going on.  I was disappointed there wasn't any clear communication from you,  but relieved that you were trying.

I miss you. 

Do you remember the time you read poetry,  and I helped you interpret it?

I don't want to cook tonight.


I'm not sure I'm going to like the dinner tonight. But I didn't cry while cooking.  You def wouldn't like it....the cilantro couldn't be omitted.   


Here are the benefits I've found this week of semisingle life:
*I quit shaving
*I sleep.  A lot.  
That's the list. 

***

I'm at work. Two trucks, four callouts. 

I'm so tired.  Like physically spent.  I just want hugs and snuggles and quiet time with you and the babies. I guess I can do part of that tomorrow. 

I hope your trip is going well.  I hope your family is being supportive. You might not actually even be there,  but I feel like this was the weekend you were. 

I'm so thirsty all the time.  I've started drinking water and Gatorade and cut way back on coffee and I still just am craving hydration. 


I'm over this. 

Pretty sure Abby was in the parking lot just now.  11pmish.  Brown SUV.  They were absolutely looking for something; if it wasn't her, then maybe a thief.  Either way, Kennedy scared them off with the forklift, accidently.  

First 30 hours complete, and exam scheduled for Monday.   Little nervous,  but I'm sure I'll be fine. 

***
Im home.  I spent the rest of the night thinking about things I'm good at, and here's the list  (in no particular order):
*knitting 
*being a mom
* giving love 
*cooking
*following processes
*quality alone time (wink,wink)
*listening
*traveling 
*acceptance of people

None of those really translate into jobs, but it helped me realize I'm a goodish person.   

And on that note, I'm going to drink too much and sleep.  

I miss you,  so much, and I hope I'm still Christmas Eve.  

Love you,  Goober. 

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