I don't like to complain,* but this has been a really rough week. Miles has been extra cranky. I've been on edge. Neither of us has had enough sleep. And honestly, we've just been getting on each other's nerves.
This is what happens when Patrick goes out of town.
I am very aware of the fact that I tend to take my husband for granted. He is amazing. He is super helpful around the house, and he picks up the slack when I just can't manage for a day. Our routine works so seamlessly that I often forget how much there really is to do every day. He takes on so much that I just never think about. Until he's gone, and I have to cover it all.
More than that, though, when Patrick is gone, I feel like I've been thrown off my game. I am shaken. I lose my ability to take on the world. I am grumpy, and irritable, and prone to wild mood swings. Everything feels slightly off-kilter, like someone removed an essential piece of my life. Because honestly, that's what happens. Patrick is essential to my mental well-being.
Last night, we had our Awards Party for Festival. I was standing near the doors, a few minutes before everything was supposed to begin, greeting people as they entered. I had turned to talk to someone briefly, and when I turned back toward the door, Patrick had appeared, looking dashing in his suit and tie, and holding a single red rose.
And with an inaudible twing, my world popped back together.
*Who am I kidding? I love to complain. That's half the reason for this blog. :)
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