When your husband has been out of town all month, you make a bitchin’ bowl for dinner every night. It’s far better than the eggs and toast which usually fill that stark white dinner plate. And it’s ready in five minutes. And for just a second, it makes you forget that you’re alone in a condo fully dressed in Christmas garb at the end of January.
Three and a half years later. One semester to go. My husband is nearing the end of graduate school. At least the school part. He’s currently touring the country interviewing for internships. Connecticut. Maryland. Ohio. Michigan. Tennessee. Illinois (current home). Louisiana. Kentucky. Colorado. In one short month we’ll find out where we’re going. February 24. Match day. A simple email holds our fate.
But until then, you wait. You make a big batch of bitchin’ sauce. You eat a bitchin’ bowl for dinner every night. And you turn on the Christmas tree like it’s going out of style.