Tonight my husband flies back to Australia for 9 nights on a boys fishing trip.*
I am consumed with jealousy and what I assume is homesickness. I’ve not been feeling all that flash this week – tired, emotional, fed up – and I yearn to rug up in tracky daks and bed socks and wallow.
But I can’t as I live in a place that is perpetually summer.
Who would believe that continual warmth could make you stabby? Well it does.
I’m a tad over wearing the same thing (that is, summer clothes) every single day.
I want to feel a nip in the air and have “cardigan remorse”.
I’d like not to sweat whilst sitting on my couch.
Today I just want to go home.
*I am just going to leave out the rant about how unfair this is and how my future does not hold a comensurate amount of “me” time so that I do not sound like a bitter wife. Darn, looks like I just did that.