When the Cat's Away . . . (RE-POST FROM 7/18/15)

Dan was out of town again this weekend, but since it is close to the beginning of the school year, I didn't have as much time for as much recreation. Mostly, I binge-watched Netflix while working on paperwork for school. Enjoy this re-post from two years ago!

Last weekend, my husband, Dan, went out of town for the weekend. A normal person probably would have organized a girls' night out or would have relished the chance to reconnect with friends other than his/her spouse. But I didn't because I don't often get the weekend to myself.

Dan and I are awesome because we have our own lives. We don't mind doing some activities solo . . . occasionally.

After eleven years of marriage, I don't even get an "I've arrived" text when he travels anymore. In other words, last weekend, I wasn't sure whether or not he was alive or dead. But I still filled my couple of days with fun alone activities.

One afternoon, I read a book for a couple of hours in a coffee shop. Then I treated myself to the new Amy Winehouse documentary that evening.

This is just the type of film about which Dan would say, "I wanted to see that one too!" But then he would never take me to it, not with Terminator Genisys or Mad Max: Fury Road on the big screen.

The next morning, I hiked in the Boise Foothills all by myself. I highlighted a route on a trail system map, and I actually followed it instead of panicking, taking a wrong turn, and getting lost. I packed up water, snacks, a first aid kit and willed myself not to see any cougars or rattlesnakes or crazy people. (I forgot to pack my pepper spray. That won't happen again, by the way, crazies who are reading my blog.)

However, when my husband's out of town, and I try to sleep, I imagine my house is turning into episode of Penny Dreadful, even though I spent almost a decade sleeping on my own in various apartments and dorm rooms.

I finally received a text from him before he returned to Boise. He wanted to know if I had already listened to a podcast or if he should wait for me so we could listen to it together, and that's how I found out he was still alive.

Of course, I don't want Dan to stay away too long. Last Saturday, I pulled into the driveway after a trip to the Farmers Market and sighed at the length of the grass in our front yard.

"Thank goodness Dan comes home tonight," I thought to myself. Or maybe I said it out loud. I talk to myself a lot when Dan is not around. "I don't feel like mowing the lawn."

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