Month Thirty-Seven

Dear Husband,

How time flies when you’re having fun. And apparently also when you’re not doing much of anything at all. It seems like the past couple of weeks have melded into each other as the days have gotten a little hazy of late. And I don’t think that’s just baby brain either. Maybe a number of late nights managed to temporarily erase a couple of things from my memory. It did occur to me this month that I completely bypassed the fact that my office moved locations again last month and it therefore received nary a mention. Not that my office relocating has a lot to do with us or with you per se but as per usual (since we have been through this before), when I get caught up in something, how long I think I will be is very different to how long it often takes me to be ready.

Usually when I end up working at the office late, you will offer to come and pick me up. This usually precedes a conversation that frustrates me because I am made to put a time on how long I think it will take me to do what I have to do. And I can always find something else to do. Home is a long way from work in the car so its really nice to have a lift but at the same time, I often find it easier to get the train because then I’m not running late, I’m just taking my time. You want to be helpful though and busy and not alone (the dog apparently doesn’t count) so it seems you’d rather hop in the car by yourself for half an hour to come and get me sooner than wait at home with the dog until my train arrives. And predictably enough, when the office relocated, I was in the city late trying to do what was necessary for the fitout people (which seemed to be nothing much at all in the end) and coordinating the movers I hired (which consequently didn’t work so well cause I was physically at the new office and not the old one) and 8 o’clock turned into 9 o’clock which turned into 10 o’clock. And then I made you drive to the old office and back to the new one again cause the movers forgot the cooler box which contained the beer and icecream.

So I’m sorry that I get caught up in things and I’m sorry when I say I’ll be leaving soon but then I don’t. I was really sorry the other day when you said you thought I might have stayed at work late so I didn’t have to go home. That wasn’t the case at all! I really did get sidetracked by the magician and the caricaturist and the party that was going on in the office as I left…as unbelievable as that sounds for a business that does financial planning. Sometimes its nice to see something different or unusual in your day – and I had just worked an hour and a half longer than I had expected to so it was a chance to unwind a bit before heading out for the boring train trip home. It wasn’t you. Honest. But what does make me feel slightly better about all this is that you do the same thing.

You worked a stock take at work a while ago and you told me you’d be done by the time I got to the station around 7. Then you said dinner had just arrived for the boys so I caught a bus home instead. Then you called me to say you were almost done but that you might go to the pub for one drink and come straight home. A little while later you called me to say you hadn’t left for the pub yet but you would soon. Then you called from the pub to say you’d be home after 9 once you’d had a drink. Then you apparently had more than one drink because they talked you into another one and you called closer to 10 to say you were finally coming home…Then there are the times that you head out to do “a couple of things” at the shops and you tell me you’ll be about a half hour / forty-five minutes or so and then two hours later you waltz back in the door. The only difference with these situations is that I’m not usually waiting for you to get home, I’m taking advantage of the time in the house by myself.

Anyway, the late nights were over a month ago and this last month, we unfortunately couldn’t include a free trip to Perth which was on the cards for a short while. Your work told you that you were first on the list and they even went to the trouble of sending an email to the staff asking for volunteers to fly to the Perth office and work for two weeks. They said they would fly the partners over on the middle weekend and pay for food and accommodation etc but then they couldn’t get their act together and nobody went. That was a bit disappointing. I was kind of looking forward to a sort of babymoon. Even if we did go to the Margaret River and I couldn’t drink anything but it wasn’t to be. You at least made up alcoholwise with WhiskyLive however.

The only thing that does come to mind for this month was the return of WhiskyLive to the social calendar. Last year they canned it for some reason but this year they held it on a weeknight so you and my dad took yourselves off (or rather mum and I dropped you) in the city so you could partake of many wonderful whiskys. I gather you both had a good time. You weren’t really sober by the time you got home. Ravenous but not sober. Even though they apparently had more food there this year. But I took pity on you however and drove you to McDonalds at eleven o’clock at night instead of going to bed so you could get some food that would help soak it up. Because that’s love.

Lovingly yours,

Your Loving Wife

* Photo taken at Murmur bar on your birthday

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