November 13, 2006

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 13, 2006

I miss my husband.

Tom is in Bogota today on business, but even when he heads home, he'll be heading to Costa Rica and I'll still be here in Miami. I know this arrangement is temporary, but as the sale of our house drags on, being apart is gradually making us both nuts. Most of the time I'm okay. I focus on our daughter and on work which, lately, is nearly seven days a week. In between I try to wedge in keeping up the house (so it looks appealing when people want to see it) and what little social life I have the energy for. Tom keeps busy with work and some new friends in San Jose, but in between, I know he can get pretty down. We try to talk nearly every day, some days several times. Our VoIP lines make it cheap and easy and we do get to see each other on iChat a few nights each week. Those video visits are usually taken over by India, who misses her daddy terribly and blames our situation on 'this damn house'. Still, we get to be on familiar ground unlike Tom. He's been in CR since last February and he's gotten into a groove, but due to his traveling schedule, his support system has stayed pretty small. He shops for himself and cooks for himself, things he hasn't done since he was single and probably didn't miss doing in the ten years we've been together. That's what all three of us are missing the most: together. Unless this house sells soon, or I can muster the time and resources for at least a week-long visit to San Jose, we won't be able to see each other until February. Tom has nearly maxed out the number of days he can visit the U.S. and still get the foreign-earned tax credit. (It really pisses me off that this country is (and please correct me if I'm wrong) the only country that punishes it's citizens for working abroad. It's ridiculous...but that tirade is for another post.) So, all we can do is wait, work, pray for a buyer and keep our chins up. Harder to do during the holidays...I tend to be pretty unsentimental about this time of year. For me, Thanksgiving to New Year's is messy and annoying. But Tom gets kinda down and this year may be the worst one of all for him. I'm hoping a series of brownie and book-laden care packages will alleviate some of the mopey-ness, but I know that unless I can send him the rest of our little family, dogs included, the sugar and Rolling Stone back issues will only go so far. Arrgh!! Send us a buyer Santa! Screw the presents!