Husbandless this week

Yes, Ryan is in San Diego this week. The first day he is gone on a business trip is always strange. The days after are just sad. I never realized how much I like to have him around. I lived by myself for a while and liked it very much. I always knew where everything was, it was always clean (or if it wasn't, they were my piles) and I enjoyed the quiet. Now I find that I wander around my apartment thinking "is anyone home?". Pathetic, I know.

I also never used to be jumpy in my apartment. I don't know if it's because it's bigger or not a neighborhood I grew up near, but I find myself a lot more aware of extraneous noises in this apartment. A few times ago when Ryan was away I thought I heard whistling in my apartment while I was washing dishes. Talk about freaking me out! So I grabbed the phone in one hand (to dial 911, of course) and a butcher knife in the other and started tiptoeing around the apartment. Perhaps not the smartest move if someone was indeed in my apartment, but I felt stupid just calling the police. As it turns out (after much looking in closets and locking my bedroom door when I went to sleep), no one was there. Maybe we just have some crazy whistling ghost in our apartment. Crazy whistling ghost would be a great name for a rock band!

I think maybe the reason I'm so much more aware of noise now is that when Ryan is home I can assume it's him. When he's not ... logical conclusion ... it's not him. Therefore, someone else is in my apartment. Alrighty then. Great. I'm nuts. The end.