My husband left early this morning, heading very far south... to South America. I am at home with the dogs, watching tv, eating Allsorts.
Not a bad way to be actually. K is on a three week tour of Peru: Lima, Machu Picchu, Cuzco, rainforest, blah, blah, blah. It's something he has always wanted to do, and is literally on his bucket list.
Why am I not going with him? He gets more vacation time from work. He has more of a gypsy traveller soul. And frankly if a trip requires anti-malaria pills and zip-off pants, I am pretty damn sure that is not my kind of vacation.
This will be the longest we have been apart since K and I got married. It's not the longest time apart since we met; a few weeks after we met three years ago, K was for three weeks to trek through Nepal and Bhutan. I had never heard of Bhutan.
He has an old traveller's soul, and, some gypsy blood that I don't. And that's not tiger blood, that's gypsy blood (note random Charlie Sheen reference). Vacations are important for the soul and wonderful for the spirit. We all replenish ourselves differently. My way is more likely to be traipsing through art galleries in New York, or doing the tourist thing in Paris. I am also a fan of the staycation --- let me curl up in the basement with a book and a bunch of movies, with the pooches napping in front of the fireplace, and I am a happy dude.
What am I gonna do while K is away? Eat microwave popcorn, play with the dogs, watch tons of movies, hope the house doesn't flood from melting snow, read the new Jodi Picoult book, wait for him to come home, and look forward to our next vacation together... so do I get that husband of the year trophy?
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