"My Face Hurts." "Well, It's Killing Me."

I took Charlie to the airport today for a four-and-a-half-day weekend at his mom’s in Pennsylvania. I packed his Penn State hat. He called me from the airport to tell me that my uncle had checked him through security. My dad’s brother is employed by the Department of Homeland Security, although none of us are sure exactly what he does.

I think this will be the first time Charlie and I have spent more than a day or two apart since he was in the Navy. But you know you’ve been in a relationship for a while when you don’t cry at the airport. I was sad to see him go, but I know his mom is secretly (or, probably, more openly than I’d care to admit) thrilled at the idea of having her baby all to herself for four days.

When he graduated from boot camp, we went up to see his graduation, as did his mom. We’d made plans to pick him up from her hotel after they had dinner and drive him back to base that Friday evening. When he called me from her hotel, I could hear her howling in the background “You get to see her all the time! Get off the phone with her and spend time with me!” That sort of sums up our relationship. Despite the fact that I hadn’t seen him in over three months, and she saw him first. Plus, for the first 24 or so years of his life.

And despite the fact that I’m a little sad that his first full weekend off in almost a year will be spent a thousand miles away, I am glad he’ll be seeing his mother. Oh, and I don’t have to get on a plane. She’s just as anxious about them as I am, so she understood that I didn’t want to hop on a puddle jumper for an hour or two.

My big plans for the next few days? Work, work, and a little more work, cleaning the house, walking the dogs, doing laundry. I’d originally requested the holiday weekend off but decided to suggest that Charlie take the time to visit his family, so I scratched out my requests off in the calendar. I know there are other people at work who’d like to take some time off and I need the money, so I’m not opposed to a few extra hours.

If we didn’t have a roommate I’d probably be reveling in the alone time for a day or two before getting incredibly bored and lonely. But I do have plans for Saturday night.
“Oh, do you, Courtney?”
“Yes, I do. I’m going out to a bar with people from work.”
“Sounds like fun. Who all is going to be there?”
“Everyone.”
“Everyone?”
“Yes. It’s required. We’re having a meeting.”
“Oh. That doesn’t sound like much fun after all.”
“I know.”

Normally I’d be happy to attend a store meeting at a bar. But at 8pm on a Saturday night, the day before the Indianapolis 500? Not so much. Luckily, it’s close to my house and, if necessary, I can walk and/or get a ride. Parking will be a nightmare, most likely.

I’m spending the evening on Vicodin since I don’t have to be up early and the pain is killing me. I really wish I could have gotten in sooner for the root canal but the doctors are going out of town next week. I never thought I’d look forward to a root canal, but at this point I welcome the relief in pain with open arms and mouth.

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