Welcome Home

I missed yesterday's post. I could spend the first few sentences making excuses, but you don't care about that. You want results. I feel a little guilty, but we'll all have to get over it and move on. Look, I already have.

I got back to the house late Monday night. By the time I got here, it was about 1:30 am. That's only 11:30 Vegas time which is where my body clock was still set. Now most of us would think "wow, it's late, I better get some shut eye." Most of us aren't me however. I was still in Vegas mode. As Kenny Rodgers once sang in the Gambler, "I was much too tired to sleep." So instead of looking out the window at the darkness, I did a couple loads of laundry and tried to quiet the raging in my mind. Sleep wouldn't come, and as you know, the more you try to sleep, the more awake you are.

I had been told that in her infinite wisdom, "Wife" had scheduled a meeting for us in the city at 9:00 am. Brilliant. As the hands of the clock spun like a meat slicer in the deli, I realized that I would have to stay awake. As soon as I came to that conclusion, boom, I was asleep. I got about an hour nap before "Wife" roused me from my slumber to battle rush hour traffic.

The homefront is disease ridden. "Wife" has a sinus and ear infection. She's hacking up stuff that has the consistency of oat meal and is the color of split pea soup. I know that's gross to read, but try to live it. I feel bad that she's sick, but not so bad that I didn't banish her to the guest bedroom last night. Hey, I don't want to be infected, and my haz-mat suit is at the cleaners. I was expecting a romantic welcome home and all I got was a ticket to the ICU. "Wife" is at home today trying to recuperate. I keep asking her how she feels. Mostly out of genuine concern, but a little because I'm still waiting for my welcome home.

Things should be back on schedule now, and I'll try not to miss another post. I can't guarantee anything, you know how I get. Later...Brian