My husband drove off toward the great wide north this weekend to see his buddy from college. Those of you who were at my wedding, might remember him as the loud whooping cowboy on the dance floor for most of the night. Although he wasn't from Texas, he definitely fit in quite well. That's for sure.
He called me when he got there, and I haven't heard from him since. I called him last night at midnight when I got home from an office party. Then I tried to call him again around noon today. Either he's so far off in Boony-land and his phone doesn't work, he's laying waisted in a ditch somewhere, he's sitting in a strip club driving us into bankruptcy, or maybe just not returning my calls. Either way. I'm feeling a little unloved. I'm also starting to wonder if I should have sent him off with a list of rules. His wife does sort of resemble a walrus right now - Minus the mustache.
I should also have checked to make sure his wedding ring was on, and that he had a picture of me when I looked hot. Or a lot better than I do right now anyway.
But I'm passing the time by sleeping, scrap booking and sleeping a little bit more. Oh, and going to the bathroom a lot. I managed to fight two Uhaul wardrobe boxes into my little car too, so I've got one closet packed up, and about 1/8 of the other one. Maybe I'll got fight with two more boxes tomorrow and get some more stuff boxed up. If I can't wear it until June/July or later, I might as well get it out of my sight.
