You'd think I was pregnant. With twins.
... May I never again judge my neighbors' confessions of eating bizarrely during deployments.
* * *
Nights and weekends are still hardest. Feels like my days are all the same. And the hours. They're identical. And endless.
I rotate through the same thoughts, the same chores, the same phone numbers. This must be why solitary confinement works. An uneventful life combined with deep loneliness is oppressive.
* * *
Happy News: We figured out how to rig Husband's Google Talk account so that I can call and leave him voicemails. And chatter. For minutes and minutes and minutes. And he receives an email with the recording of my chatter.
Ohmygosh, I can talk to him again! For more than bits of time, (interspersed with constant disconnections/reconnections) when we primarily need to churn through financial, scheduling, and "where did you leave the spare key?" questions. I think this might work.
I totally left him three voicemails in a row, despite having almost nothing to say. YAY!
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