As I hit “Publish” last night, it started snowing again and The Husband was ecstatic. When it comes to snow, he’s like a big kid and it lightens my mood instantaneously, even if I pretend to be all grouchy and snow hating. He calls me a “Snow Bitch”.
Today I went back to bed when The Husband went to work. It was cold outside and even though I knew I had work to do around the house, a few more hours under the covers just felt like the right thing to do. If anyone asks, I’m blaming the dog. He knows where to hang out where it’s always warm and cozy.
The prospectus came from Open University last night. I only have a few more days to apply for my Openings course and I’m nervous that I’m not going to be able to hold up my end of the bargain when it comes to paying for it.
We had a deal, The Husband and I – he would pay, I would help more around the house. Apparently I’m doing a so-so job with it at present. I’ve never been one for housework, hence why we have a cleaner come weekly and I have no idea how to go about keeping up my part in the bargain.
I guess I just have to keep trying. I wonder what my therapist will think about swapping household chores for one payment of £290?
It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I didn’t mean to leave you so long or make you feel deserted. It just happened. I apologise.
Last time I wrote, I was in Australia. I was dreading leaving one home but excited to get back to reality. Now I’m not so excited. The job scene isn’t hot (long story short: worst interview ever), it’s so cold I feel like I live in an Igloo, I miss my family like crazy and I finally realized that even though I love London, my real home is in Australia, with my family.
There have been tears almost every day. There have been stupid arguments and decisions to plan ahead but I just don’t want to. I want to go home right now. I know it’s selfish to expect him to pick up his happy life and everything that he holds dear to him but I know that those three months of happiness, comfort and being able to spend time with the ones I love were the reason why I didn’t need to take my antidepressants and the moment I felt I had finally kicked that black dog right out of the door.
Decisions have to be made. It’s just a shame they are the ridiculously hard ones.
Image found at WeHeartIt.com
It’s my first blog post and I can’t think of anything to write about today. But I have decided that I need to write, because I have so many feelings that I need to get out.
I haven’t seen my husband since the 27th October 2011. I won’t see him until the 25th January 2012. I miss him. He is my rock, my pillar, my best friend. We can argue like a cat and a dog, yet we still have so much love for each other.
There was a moment in time where I thought I would lose him forever. We had been fighting over issues that we’d had for nine years. My issues. His issues. We walked around on eggshells around each other. It wasn’t fair, so I moved back home for a break.
By the time I’d walked through the airport and boarded my plane I knew even though it was a good idea to take a break from each other, it was a bad idea – I missed him so much. Thank heavens for sad movies on in-flight entertainment to use as an excuse as to why I had tears running down my face for the whole eleven hours it took to fly from London to Singapore.
I’m counting down the days until I fly back over to London. Only one month and three weeks to go…