Jendra In The House

September is upon us. What used to be the new school year and mark the end of vacation has become the start of a new vacation schedule at work. I'm not sure how many days I have accumulated. I know that I get roughly four weeks per year. I also know I don't take as much time as I ought to. I have this nervousness about not having any time off available for god knows what might crop up.

Nothing ever does crop up. Things generally get scheduled around these parts. I'm not sure why I don't just take two weeks and do nothing. Well, I suppose it has to do with the fact the Dude doesn't get paid vacation and I'm not going to travel without him, and that's what I really want to use my holidays for: travel.

I want to go to France. I need to see Italy. I have a desire to visit Iceland. And the cities I very much want to see outside of those countries are Prague and Vienna. So five items of interest. I wish I could take two months and just make it happen. With a bank account to handle such an excursion, of course. Ah, dreams.

I've been mostly alone all week. The Dude has been away for consecutive business trips to help his boss photograph wind farms in small towns that are comprised mostly with truck drivers passing through, eating at diners where food is fried thrice. And now he's a couple hours away doing food shoots. He's home tomorrow.

And my IBS acting up has made me squeamish about leaving the house, and it's made my clothes fit poorly. All home and no people makes Jendra a... well, a hermit I guess, which is nothing new, but I don't like when it's not self-imposed. I miss the Dude. We're going to spend all of Labour Day together doing only things we want to do and generally basking in each other's company.

But for now... sleeping alone stinks.