Bye Bye, Burdy

Well, CLH finally left for Mexico this morning. Between the rants about garage sales and panic attacks, I think I forgot to mention this, um, enormous factoid: CLH is sailing 2800 miles from Mexico to Hawaii with three other men on a 47 foot sailboat and will be gone for about a month.

Hey! Guess what? I’m going to sleep diagonally in my bed for thirty days straight!

I spent the day volleying back and forth from smiling giddily over being a “free” woman for thirty days, and crying like a baby. ‘Cause, you know. I’m stable like that. NPR reports on a day of mourning for earthquake victims in China? Okay with me. Hearing the Eels song “Fresh Feeling”? Totally not okay. Total tearjerker.

I’ve been rattling around the house all day, which does not help at all with this sudden feeling of loneliness. I count on small things, like the smell of CLH’s coffee in the morning, and the soft computer glow and tinny music coming from his side of the office when I wake up, to get me through the day. When I woke up this morning (after driving CLH to the airport at the ungodly hour of 5:45 am. Seriously, how do you people with the jobs do it?) the office was cold and quiet and then it set in: no CLH for 30 days.

It usually goes like this for me: whenever we are apart for long periods of time, I miss him and weep intermittently for about four days. By day seven I’m like “Stan? Stan who?” Last year when I left for Burning Man, I cried silently behind the novel I was reading on the bus. I don’t know why I get so freaking emotional. It’s not like he was dead, or that I wasn’t going to see him ever again. It’s just that we spend a LOT of time together, and being apart for the first time in a long time was just felt, well, devastating.

Of course, the last time I left, I knew CLH wasn’t going anywhere. I knew he’d be at our apartment when I got back in ten days. This time around, it’s a little more serious. There’s all kinds of shit that can go wrong. Things like capsizing and shark attacks and injury and shit that only the Discovery Channel can design a mini-series around.

I have been trying VERY hard not to focus on all the things that can go wrong on a boat in the middle of the ocean. Did you notice I wrote the words “shark attack” and didn’t have to faint? That’s the NEW me talking. The new me who is reading a book she found at Goodwill in the self help section of the book department about panic attacks and anxiety. The old me would have needed to be cradled like a baby and told that shark attacks are few and far between (probably as frequent as alien abductions is my guess) and that CLH and his crew are going to be fine. The new me is convinced that everything’s going to be just fine WITHOUT needing to be cradled like a baby. Take THAT, anxiety! (high fives with adrenal glands).

Now, to make sure I’m using my Single Lady time to its utmost potential while CLH is gone, I’ve got a bucket list going (and I’m not even sure I’m using “bucket list” correctly here so excuse me while I go use the Internet. {here’s me clicking open another window in Mozilla and Googling “bucket list” and grimacing}. Okay, I’m back. Um. I don’t want to give anyone the idea that I’m terminally ill. So maybe I shouldn’t call it a bucket list. Maybe it’s more of a finite to-do list.)

Alright, I’m so exhausted from lack of sleep my eyes burn. So here’s just a few things:

Do a detox diet
Take trapeze lessons
Lose ten pounds
Write a children’s book
Update this blog more often
Clean out the ‘fridge

Some of the things are more thrilling than others. You can’t believe how excited I am to clean out the ‘fridge.

Goodnight, sweet Burdy. I hope you are ready for the adventure of a lifetime.