It is 11:29 pm. I am sitting at my kitchen table. The floor is not swept, but the dishes are done, so that's progress. I am addressing wedding invitations for someone who lives in San Diego. My Beloved is in Dallas, which is a 20 hour drive away. Or something like that. The Wee One is screaming in her room, and has been (off and on) since I put her to bed.
There is only one thing I want at a time like this, and it is called canned peas. But I'm all out.
And I'm not even kidding.
I miss you, Beloved.
Come home soon.