This is going to be a long seven weeks.
I’ll try to avoid being overly sentimental while writing this. Not likely to succeed, so uh… consider yourself forewarned.
For the past fourteen months I have been with my wife all day, almost every day. She works (or worked: she’s now a full-time mum) from home, as do I. I’ve gone for the occasional night with the guys, and business trips here and there, but for the most part it’s been around the clock.
We’re not one of those couples that rattle around one another (not that I’m knocking those, they’re great too; sometimes fighting is part of the fun. I’m just talking about us though). We’re like a freaking BMW, or a Swiss watch or something, only without the fancy price-tag. Smooth running, low maintenance.
We walk the same way to get coffee together every morning, weekdays and most weekends. We try to beat each other at spotting the first feral rabbit in the park. We laugh about dumb shit. A lot.
For the last five months we’ve had a daughter too. I have absolutely no complaints, she’s awesome. Everything is pretty rad (hate us if you want).
But now they’ve gone to Korea for a few short weeks. They’ll be back soon enough, and I’m even going to join them over there for a while in May. Great.
But you see, the thing is, after dropping them off at the airport this morning (without a tear in sight), I realise that I actually needed them to be here. It’s not just that I’m missing them, but that I feel something is utterly wrong in this picture. Does not compute. No comprende. Computer says no.
They were a shield: an excellent protection and support from anxiety. Anxiety surrounding my work, and adult life in general.
*Haha! Oh D.R… You and your adorable first-world-problems*
Over the past few years I’ve noticed a trend: I’ve been growing angrier, more cynical, and more suspicious. When driving. In public. Forget waiting for old-age, I’m already considering taking up residence on the porch with a shotgun and a bottle.
So I realise that I’m probably gearing up for a bender tonight when I finish work. It’s something that happened last time we were apart as well. What I’m deciding though is that I’m definitely not going to do that. Not. This. Time. There won’t be any ludicrous consumption of alcohol. There won’t be any staggering, vomiting or aggression.
Because damn it I’m supposed to be an adult. A father.
So my question to you all is this: – what’s a good way of letting off some steam, something that doesn’t involve leaving a scorched crater for a hundred kilometres* in every direction? So far the Guardians of the Galaxy soundtrack seems to be some help…
Thanking you in advance.
*Definitely not to be taken literally. May contain hyperbole.