wah. call me a wahmbulance and feed me a wahmburger. give me some cheese because i want to whine.
my husband had to go to work to go on a job 3 hours from home, yesterday at 5 pm. he expected to get in by midday today. as if that wasn't sucky enough, nothing went as expected. which IS actually somewhat expected in the oilfield.
more than 24 hours later they are still in the same spot, with no progress and still don't know when they get to come home. he hasn't showered. he has barely had a couple hours to nap. it's been windy as hell outside and sorta cold.
i want my husband to come home. i want him to go to sleep next to me and steal the covers all night. i actually miss his pointy ass elbows jabbing into my back and sides. i want to cook him lasagne and i want to curl up on the couch with him once saaquatch gets put to bed.
right before i married him, another schlumberger wife who is old enough to be my mother warned me it would be like this. she told me i would live alone, raise any future chuildren alone, i would essentially be a widow. a schlumberger widow.
she was right. and while in the grand scheme of things i am ok with that, right now i am not. my husband's job provides for us and will hopefully keep providing for us until he retires in another 20 years or so. but i don't have to like it. i don't have to like him being gone on 20 hour work days and sometimes 36-72 hour "workdays". i don't have to like single parenting. i don't have to like sleeping alone. i don't have to like signing his name to cards because he is never home when it comes time to sign them.
i miss my husband and i want him to come home.
Podcast interview on Butter No Parsnips
6 months ago
1 comment:
I swear, I don't know how you do it. I really feel for you, because I would go absolutely nuts if Brian had a job like that. You're in my thoughts, for sure.
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