Day 38 2/13/08 'Sup er Time

I’ve become a “pacer.” I’m the lady that waits for her man to come home, and counts the minutes he’s late. It happened just today; just now. It happened ironically, in just one minute. First thing I know I’m preparing a wonderful meal for my hard working husband, and the next thing I know I’m counting the minutes he’s late. I’m cursing him for two minute tardiness and a soggy dinner. It’s really not a big deal; I’m just excited at the prospect of him walking into a hot and homey meal.

So in the meantime, I take my laps around the house. I make peripheral notes about what needs to be dusted or vacuumed as I wind around the main floor circle. From the kitchen to the dining room, which I noticed needs both a throughout dusting and vacuuming, and I need to make time to clear of f the dining room table. I make a mental list while tramping down the hall, past the bathroom and bedroom; everything looks ok in these rooms. I close the pace loop through the living room that leads me back into the kitchen. Boy does my kitchen need to be swept and wiped down; I add that to the list. I check on the meal, it is simmering at 6:34pm. Dinner was to be served at 6:30 sharp, per his schedule. I’m sure he got held up in traffic or at the gym. I can’t fault him for having a full agenda. I know he’ll be apologetic when he does get home. He’s always so complimentary, and he’ll feel awful for having held off dinner. Ah, finally at 6:38 I hear him pull up. I’ve had too much time to dwell on this today and I find it more humorous than anything else. It’s only dinner for God’s sake. It can hold. I’m resigned to not being a pacer anymore. Eight minutes of this is all I can take. I’m over it. Chow time!