You’ve been gone for three days now.  And some odd hours.  I stopped counting the minutes.

I’m not going to lie.  I was kinda looking forward to having some time to myself.  I had a bunch of things I wanted to get done, that is very hard for me to get done while you’re here.  And guess what?  I did them.  Then, after that half hour that it took me to do them, I’ve just been looking for things to do.

The kids are fine.  Shelby hasn’t moved from her shelf, and Friday missed me.  Or you.  I really couldn’t tell at first, since he’s obviously a neglected and lonely cat, but he repeatedly said "SARAHBROWN" in his little cat voice, so I guess he was just throwing me a bone.  The fish are all alive.  This is good because it means that I don’t have to curl up in a fetal position on your porch.

My kids miss you, too.  I know this because they face the east and howl or bark in the most sorrowful tones ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT.  I’m talking ALL night long.  And I think the most sweet and harmless things about them.  I promise I do.

I don’t EVER think about how, by the time you get home, I’ll have plenty of time to kill them AND dispose of the bodies.  Nope.

I felt very odd at the bridal shower yesterday, being a better friend of the groom than the bride, and not really knowing half the people there.  But we threw a killer shower, precious and sassy at the same time, and I was proud of us.  It has made me rethink, however, this whole "eloping" thing.  As many THOUSANDS of weddings as I’ve taken part in, and how, in every single one, I’ve pampered the bride and taken hellified abuse and smiled through it all because it’s "her special day".. I think I’ve earned that.  So honey, I’m sorry I’ve led you to believe that we’re going to have a simple ceremony.  We’re now looking at a wedding the size of Princess Diana.  Just be prepared.

I miss you at stupid moments.  This morning, I tried to make waking up without you pleasant, by doing all the things I try not to do when you’re there.  I left the alarm on and listened to music all morning.  I turned on all the lights in the house.  I used a hair dryer with the door open.  I made coffee.  I got all of my ironing done.. for the week.  And I left the house at seven.  But, truth be told, the message in the mirror made my heart hurt and I would’ve traded all of the ironing for that fifteen minutes of cuddling that I wake up to every morning.

I gorged all weekend on foods that you won’t eat.  I had tuna, corndogs, popcorn, nuts with M&Ms.. and, as you can imagine, was VERY ill from it.

I’ve run out of batteries.

I can’t wait for you and the Boy to get back.  I’ve held off any and all Halloween decorating because I thought that, you know, it being one of my favorite traditions of the BitterHouse, maybe I could pass that on.  Maybe Halloween at Sarah’s house would be fun.  I’ve gone ahead and gotten the green light on taking Friday off, so maybe we can spend the day doing that.

I miss you.  Mightily.  And I know I’ll talk to you tonight and pretend that I haven’t missed you, and I’m NOT sleeping on your pillow because it smells like you, and I HAVEN’T stolen a shirt of yours to sleep in, and I WILL NOT save all of your favorite meals for when you return.. but it’s all a lie.

Tell your folks I said hi and send them my love.

Then get that precious little ass back here.

Much love,

Cranberry Sauce