Life lessons

I have been living apart from my husband for almost a year. It doesn't seem possible. Nor does it seem doable, or that I would be the one to try to do it. There are times when I feel that homesick "omygodican'tdothisonemoreday" claustrophobic feeling. There are other times when I think I will be ok. At least my husband makes me know that he misses me, too, and that his job is fulfilling and satisfying. That goes a long way toward making this worth it.

My situation would have been a lot different had I known that I would be staying behind here in Detroit for (practically) the entire school year. And it might be the entire year (sheesh). I would have kept furniture here; I would have rented an apartment, I would have spent more time there last summer. But the thing is that I didn't know. What I thought would happen: I was told by my major adviser that I could take a semester at Wayne and that I could go to Houston in January. She didn't tell me that I had to be here for a residency requirement that forced me to take another class that I don't need and that is irritating more than it is enlightening. So. I didn't want to have to move a lot of stuff. My old college buddy let me live in his basement for the first semester, which is nowhere near as bad as it sounds. They have a walkout and his wife cooks like it's 1999. But I digress. I moved in with a work colleague and this has worked out well, but it's hard to rent a room from someone else. I don't care how much of a gypsy you think you are.

There are days when I wonder if all of this was worth it. Who knows? I just hate that I have lost a year of time with my husband. I don't regret the friendships I have made that would never have happened if he hadn't had to go. I was pretty damn happy back then! Even though he was laid off and my job permanence was suspect, at least we were together. That is a huge part of my life, gone poof! I am just so grateful it's not permanent. Yet I think about the fact that we aren't going to live forever, and I wonder if I will find a job at my age. By the way, I found out that there's a name for what I am: I'm a trailing spouse. Sounds like a houseplant. I hope I can grow roots in Houston soon, I am becoming pot-bound here in Michigan.