It’s been a week since M left for Japan for a business trip. You’d think I’m celebrating the extra space in our bed but no, our bed is not even that big (you’ll be shocked at the size if I tell you) and on the contrary, I find it difficult to sleep without him. Yes, we do argue from time to time (what married couples don’t?) but everytime he’s not here, I truly appreciate the things he does daily.
Really simple things like driving me to work, taking out batteries, fixing the PC (if there’s trouble), dealing with the octopussy wiring stuff, home accounting, paying the bills, cooking authentic Japanese food at times. He does all that.
I went to the video shop yesterday to return DVD’s we borrowed [wait, before anything else, you should really, really watch Hairspray (the Shake & Shimmy Edition), if you still hadn’t!] and I needed to park.
Holy mother of God, PARALLEL PARKING MAKES MY UNDERARMS SWEAT.
And not just tinge of sweat staining my clothes but sweat, the flooding type. Ick. The people around are watching. Hello? Is there anything special with a chick (sweaty one) trying to park a small car?
They ignored my dagger looks.
I’ve been driving for 8 years now but still suck at parallel parking, you bet, especially if there are people looking at me. What do they expect anyway? That I would fender-bender the two cars in front and behind me? Hah, I may be sweaty and slow but that ain’t gonna happen! (I hope!)
I’ve been driving to and from work everyday since he left (and until I leave for vacation to join him on the first week of October). I dread driving here ever since that episode but what can I do? It’s too hot outside. I’ve been using the bus since the start of Ramadan because of the shortened hours and M can’t go home early. It’s no fun to wait for the bus with the afternoon sun glaring and the temperature is 110F (or more) and you can’t even DRINK water in public because yeah, baby, it’s the month of fasting.
Thou shall not insult the hungry and thirsty people around you.
Since M left, I’ve been doing the things he does and not minding it at all. Except the driving part. That’s really my husband’s thing, not mine. I really don’t like chest pains in the morning.
So anyway, I’m really just trying to write that it’s safe to say that I miss my husband and I need him. For the meantime, I’ll be practicing the driving equivalent of brain surgery <- great resource!