Surprise, surprise. My husband might be leaving again for another two weeks. Isn't that just a stiff rod up the unsuspecting backside? Lemme tell ya, this shit is getting mad old, but what's the alternative? It's his job. I can complain, he can leave flying behind and we can continue our lives from a refrigerator box behind Walmart or I can suck it up and drive on. I've chosen the most financially stable option, but it leaves me with a feeling of emptiness. When he's home, he's home and it's okay, but I know he's leaving in another couple of weeks anyway, so I don't get comfortable. It's like having a boarder in the home-albeit, a hottie boarder that I can be sexually deviant with.
Gotta go and query some playhouses now. It's 7am, so I have a few minutes before I have to put the boot in to my son to rise and shine. This week I should find about about the Pittsburgh play festival. I'm figuring the winners will be notified this week since they are holding auditions for the chosen plays on 24 September. Please, God. Throw me a bone.
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