Bobby is on a business trip in Arkansas this week. And, from the moment we heard about this trip, we weren't looking forward to it. The trip means a week of earlier mornings, later nights, lack of home-cooked meals, and sleeping in a strange bed. Not to mention, our being apart from each other. I'd say that part is especially rough.
But, he never complained. (I was probably complaining about it enough for the both of us.)
It's turned out to be an even-less-pleasant week for him than was expected. There have been a lot of work-related problems to deal with, and he's under a lot of pressure to get it all done. But, again, he hasn't complained. (Not even about the $30/night hotel room he's staying in, in order to avoid a long commute every morning. Use your own imagination about how awful that must be.) For that, I'm proud of him.
Bobby got this position a mere three weeks or so before our wedding. Until that point, we had no idea what was in store for us, and having a source of income when you get married is generally considered to be a good idea. It was a major blessing when he got this job. And, it still is! I think Bobby is mindful of that more than I tend to be. That's probably one of the reasons that he works so hard, and takes the good (having a job!) with the bad (sometimes having to be away from home). And, because of that, I'm proud of him.
Bobby has a "go-at-it-with-everything-you-have" attitude that he applies to just about everything he does. I admire it. I'm thankful for it. And, I'm thankful for him. He's teaching me a lot, and I doubt he knows it.
He'll be gone six nights, and this is the longest we've been apart since we became "Mr. and Mrs." We're on the downhill slope of this week, though, and I think we're going to make it. It is "Wine-Down Wednesday", after all, which we fully intend to participate in together, even from afar. So, that's bound to help a little bit.
I miss you, handsome. Hurry home! And, until you get here...hang in there.
|A much more relaxed Bobby on a non-business trip of ours. |
(Remember those days, babe?)