I'm tired. Horribly, horribly tired.
The kids are both sick and up off and on all night. I desperately need to sleep for more then 2 hours at a time and definitely more then 4 hours a night. I've switched to full-on caffeinated coffee, no more of the wimpy half-decaf mix of beans for me. I need that full force blast of artificial wakefulness surging through my veins.
We are only 6 days into a 3 week underway. It feels like months. It feels like months left. I've been secretly hatching a plan for the day that Jon is scheduled to come home- Easter Sunday- that he'll come home and I'll tag out and just go to bed. He gets underway again the next morning, so if I don't catch up in the 12 hours he's home, then I may just dry up and blow away, right?
But, the tired isn't what gets me. Usually after a night or two I'm back to a regular sleep schedule, it's just this time with kids being sick and some extra stress from the hyper-demoralizing job search and never-ending interview cycle that is keeping me up.
It's not having an adult to talk to. Being able to talk to someone without repeating myself three times. Not being surrounded by people whom I have to remind to go to the bathroom.
I'm a chatty person, it's the way I'm made. And I don't have my best friend here to chat with. Worse of all I can't even get him by phone and no email, so it's like going cold-turkey from some highly gratifying addiction.
He's the sane one in our coupling. Honest. He's quiet and level-headed. Stern and very regimented. He keeps us all in line; makes sure we all get our vitamins, that our shoes are where they belong, that the dogs are properly walked, that the right kind of meat comes out of the freezer for dinner. He's learned how to pay absolutely no attention to my mad ramblings, but still nod like he's absorbing every single word. I miss that.
This morning I called my friend and carpool partner to alert her that David would not be going to school today, and I rambled for 10 minutes about the idiocy of some perceived snub that I received, which I knew full well I over-reacted to, but was I just totally powerless to that overwhelming urge to be offended. And she says in her way to nice manner, "oh, well you are beginning to step over in to the cranky side." I laughed so hard. I responded with, "oh, no! I'm wallowing on the cranky side!" It's like my two-year old, trying out my reaction to her different emotional states. I'm in the *I'm going to pout and see if I get more attention* phase. It's not horribly attractive in a 40-year old woman.
I give myself another couple days. The kids are on the mend from their nasty colds. I'll start sleeping again (please God let me start sleeping again.) We will all get settled into our routine. I'll get used to not having my partner to talk to, and come to terms with not having adult conversation at my beck and call. Then he'll come home. And chances are, I'll probably complain about him throwing off our routine!