Hubby left at 5:30 this morning. Through the haze of sleep I heard his frantic leap out of bed and some godforsaken hour before dawn and his subsequent shower and departure. He's traveling to San Francisco to participate in a training seminar for work. His new job requires him to use a certain software but they won't offer technical support to him unless he attends their training and passes a proficiency test. Since he is already pretty darn good at using it, this is merely a formality and and excuse to travel in December when the planes are fogged in.
So he is currently still sitting in the L-town airport waiting to take off. Hopefully he'll make it to Seattle and then to California sometime today. He has all day to do it and it is only two one-hour flights. Knowing air travel, however, he may not actually make it.
Adding to his misery is the fact that he has some kind of intestinal bug resulting in stomach cramps and frequent bathroom trips. I think he's having about as much fun as a crash dummy. Poor guy.
Left at home I have been designated the status of Single Parent. Since my cold has calmed down into a residual cough, I'm doing great. Always an optimist, I determined that rather than pine away for my other half, I would find something to enjoy. That something turns out to be my anal propensity for perfectionism. I have been doing everything today exactly how I want to. I ran the kids through their "getting ready for church" routine and things went as smooth as greased lightning. We were even on time for church. Coming home, we did lunch and nap and I even have the dishes loaded in the dishwasher. I find it pleasant to putter around the house putting things just where I want them and knowing they will stay there.
The only thing that is causing me problems is the Christmas tree. It won't stand up straight. The other day it fell over entirely so Hubby bought a bigger stand. Well, it still needs some tightening because half an hour ago it was leaning madly toward the door. I fussed with the screws and now it is leaning madly toward the fireplace. I am having premonitions that I am going to be spending my entire four days commando crawling under the thing tightening this screw or that in an attempt to get the tree to stand up.
Still, I think I'm having a better time of it than poor Hubby. I hope he feels better soon and that his flight connects. I suspect that part of his intestinal woe is due to worry. Once he is there he can relax and enjoy his trip.