You know, anticipating being alone was a lot worse than BEING alone, honestly. I can have the computer all to myself, a rarity, not that I jones for it much, having my work computer for 8 hours daily. I've been coming home to the dogs and watching TV as I usually do, but I really don't find I have much energy or inclination to cook for myself. Since I brought home a gorgeous bunch of freebie pants from a freecycle haul that didn't fit me, I have redoubled my efforts at losing weight. I have a feeling it's taking insulin + glipizide that's hindering my efforts, and suspect that unless I literally stop eating, I will never lose enough weight to fit into those stunning, expensive pants. It makes me sad.

However, I've been a fairly good girl all week. What helps is not having bad food on hand to eat! No ice cream, cookies, candy, cake, nothing I can eat as an excuse for a low blood sugar reaction. Last night, though, I felt like eating something with tomato sauce, so I cooked some spaghetti and tossed five mozzarella sticks into the oven. I only ate four of the latter, but it was the spaghetti that tasted especially delicious, and I very much enjoyed it. I realize it's probably just empty carbo calories, but I had a hankering for it, and at least it wasn't an ice cream sundae. But did it apply just as much fat to my ass as one would?

I've been speaking to Dan every day on the phone. It's hard to believe he and Brad will be flying home tomorrow. When you think about it, Sunday through Thursday really isn't much of a trip, especially when it takes so many hours to travel to San Diego and back. From what Dan told me, Doris and Sidney, my in-laws, are not doing all that well. Let me amend that--they're doing well for 85 year olds, but not for two people living totally alone when one of them is driving--badly. I worry about them a lot. They can't go on like this indefinitely, and I can't help but feel they are both living on borrowed time. It would help if they didn't live so far away, but they do, and they don't have anyone out there to help them.

There's a line in a song that goes, "I want to die before I get old."

I do!

Something weird happened last night that unnerved me, but it seems I now have an explanation. Last night, when I took out the garbage, I found water running from the hose. Perplexed, I turned it off. Who had turned it on? Not me. I worried about it--had one of the neighborhood kids done it as a prank? I didn't know, but I went to bed feeling uneasy.

I mentioned it to Dan when he called today, and he asked Brad about it. My son apparently hosed the salt off his car before they left for San Diego, but neglected to turn it off completely.

There's my explanation, but that means the water has been left on for how many days?

I've been trying to clean up the house a bit, but it's tough going. Plus, I know once hubby and child are home, it will once again regain its pigsty status, and quickly. So why bother? Well, better to start from a cleaner place, right? Anyway, even if I have a few hours of a cleaner house all to myself, it will be worth it. Besides, I think my dogs like it a bit cleaner, and I know blind Bugsy appreciates not bumping into things when the place is straightened out.

Solo life isn't bad at all, but I'm looking forward to the return of my human men tomorrow night. It's just too damn quiet without them.

Love, Robin

That about says it all, folks! My husband told me the temperature where he is and I told him the temperature where I am. We both agreed we'd rather be where he is. Nuff said!

Actually, since Dan and Brad left yesterday morning on Jet Blue, my main concern was that they get where they were going without mishap. Jet Blue has been in deep shit since Wednesday, when we had the ice storm. I'm not going into any specifics, but our terrible Valentine's Day ice storm really screwed things up, not just for them, but for all the airlines. Jet Blue got the brunt of the complaints, unfortunately, so I was very worried about ongoing backlash and whether or not Dan and Brad's plane would take off on time or perhaps be canceled as so many other flights were.

Fortunately, their flight took off only half an hour late and made up the time in the air. It was a smooth trip with excellent service, so this family has nothing bad to say about Jet Blue.

I got up at 5:30 yesterday to see my boys off on their cab and say goodbye. I didn't go back to bed, but began my day immediately, starting off by cleaning up the dining room table. I shopped all over the place, including a dollar store.

I've been wanting to buy hair dye at a beauty supply store to mix up and apply to my hair ever since I was told the boxed hair color won't work to cover my gray anymore. So I went to Sally's in Levittown. One of the young salesgirls selected and gave me three bottles, but a professional salon owner returned them to the shelf and instead gave me three different bottles, insisting they were much better. Figuring the expert should know her shit, I purchased her choices. I dyed my hair today. I'm still not sure of the outcome since my hair isn't totally dry yet. I do hope the gray at my temples isn't looking so gray anymore!

I thought I'd be lonelier, but you know what? I like my own company just fine. I was hoping to see Sharon one night this week, and I did speak to her on my cell phone while cruising the aisles of a dollar store yesterday, but she sounds like she's up to her asshole in alligators.

And so shall I be, once I return to work tomorrow. I am not looking forward to being there without Connie. I hope she's enjoying her vacation, too!

Love, Robin

Brad didn't give me anything for Valentine's Day, not a gift or a card. When I asked him why not, he retorted, "You didn't give me a card, either!" I had sent him a cute animated e-card, but he insisted that didn't count. "Besides, I gave you a kiss," he reminded me. Yes, he had, when I requested a smooch on the cheek, and then grudgingly, as he always kisses me now. Sigh.

For some reason, this is really bothering me. I understand he's a young man with a serious girlfriend. He bought her a card, I'm sure, plus a spa certificate, and took her out to a restaurant far enough away that I called to beg him to reconsider going on the icy Valentine's night because I was fearful for his safety.

I remember years, seemingly not so long ago, when *I* was his valentine, his mommy. He gave me such sweet, useless presents, but he loved me so much, and gave them with such special adoration in his eyes, I cried every time I opened them, and we hugged and kissed each other fervently.

Now, it's all different. Sure, he loves me, I know that. But he's a different person, and it often seems like a pod person has inhabited my child's body. As a kid, he was effusively affectionate, but now, I always have to ASK for a hug or kiss, and if I kiss him, he often mutters, "OW!" as if I've hurt him. I know he's kidding, but why does he feel he has to do that?

Maybe I'm being overly sensitive in this, as I am so many other things, but I feel that since Brad became involved in a serious relationship, a wall has steadily been building between us. It would help, I'm sure, if I liked and got along better with his choice. Every time she comes over, we have to hustle Bugsy and Snaps out of the house because she's afraid of dogs. (You all know how I feel about dogs.) She comes from wealth, and we are not rich. She's spoiled, and I have a problem with my son having a spoiled, rich girlfriend. She is smart, but not warm, good-humored but not fun (at least not that I have witnesses). I fear that if she marries Brad, she will drive a wedge between him and us, his parents. Perhaps it has already begun.

This is the Presidents' three-day Weekend, the last holiday we have until Memorial Day in May. That's too long a stretch for me to go without a holiday. So perhaps I'll take off a week for myself between now and then. I have no idea what I'll do all by myself, but I'll find something.

Enjoy YOUR weekend, Merry Blogsters!

Love, Robin

ICE. That's what we ended up with after all the various forms of water fell yesterday and froze into hardness when temperatures plunged and winds of up to 50 MPH blew. "Froze into hardness, plunged, blew"--it sounds sexy, doesn't it? Trust me, it wasn't.

When I went outside to start my car, I noticed ice on my windows, three layers thick, that would first have to be chiseled off before I could go anywhere. So I started the car, put the rear and front defrosters on high, and went to work. I had pulled the wipers away from the windshield so they wouldn't get frozen to the glass, but they were still delicately coated with ice, as was the antenna.

I worked hard for 20 minutes, finally making my windows see-throughable, but it was still a pain in the ass backing out of my parking spot. I drove home slowly because I had no choice, and left plenty of space between my car and the car in front of me out of self-preservation because the roads were slippery.

I made a stop on Philadelphia Avenue to pick up pants I'd won on Freecycle. Retrieving the bag was an adventure in and of itself; I decided to walk on the grass because there was a lot more traction than on the sidewalk. The three brick steps I had to ascend loomed like a thousand-foot mountain, but I avoided them altogether and just reached around to grab my prize.

Once home, I sent Snaps and Bugsy out onto our skating rink of a backyard, where they slid along as they relieved themselves. Thank God they went voluntarily. I was all set to leash-walk them but knew I'd be taking my limbs' life in my hands; every step was that treacherous.

I knew Brad and Ali had reservations at some restaurant not close enough to keep this mother from worrying her ass off on such a terrible night for traveling. I called his cell and tried to talk him out of going, but he scoffed and insisted they WERE going, they would just proceed slowly. Brad was miffed because he wanted to remain at school working, but the principal had ordered him to leave because driving was so precarious.

One more day before co-worker Connie leaves on vacation, two more before Dan and Brad go. Sigh. Many more months before Robin goes anywhere. No wonder I'm feeling so crabby!

By the way, Dan gave me a beautiful silver watch for Valentine's Day, plus a sweet, gorgeous card. I don't deserve him, I really don't. But then again, there are days when he doesn't deserve me, so I guess it all balances out. We've been together almost 29 years, and that's got to mean something special. I remember Rosanne once saying that her TV show was about how the people you love the most--your family--are those who drive you the most insane. It's surely true in my case!

Love, Robin

We're getting it all, and what it probably adds up to is death on the roads, slick fingers that grab onto wheels, make vehicles spin round and round, crash into trees, dividers, other cars, and take the lives of people who were alive one minute but are dead the next.

I will be very, very careful on my way home tonight, and pray for the safe arrival home of Dan and Brad.

I'm a terrible wife, a horrible person. When I awakened this morning, I took the Valentine's Day card I bought for Dan several weeks ago and scrawled, "You fart too much. You complain too much. You spend too much money. But I love you anyway."

I don't remember if those were the exact words I wrote, but it was something similar. When Dan read it, he said, "Oh, a list of complaints--thanks a lot. Mine to you is really nice." He sounded hurt. I felt instantly guilty, shitty and like the meanest Valentine bitch in the entire world.

He tried to give me his Valentine's gift and card, but with the nasty weather, all I wanted to do was get the hell out of the house and on my way to work. I was annoyed that he didn't understand that. After all these years, doesn't the man GET me? Has he ever GOTTEN me? Damn! I took his card and tossed it into the bag containing my fruit and other stuff for the day. Walking the dogs over the icy sidewalks had been a real trial, taking a lot longer than I expected. Rushed, I knew I had to scrape ice off my car windows because the snow had turned over to freezing rain and was coating them heavily.

I went outside and scraped off the ice, nervously pondering how bad my trip was going to be. As it turned out, stopping at stop signs was almost impossible. Carmens Road was dreadful, as expected, but Route 110 was also horrible, which I didn't expect. Unable to discern the lines on the road, I kept as close to the right as I could, driving slowly and steadily. Rather than stop, I tried to glide to red lights, which mostly worked well. My only problem was those who kept passing by on my left, splashing my windshield. Unfortunately, my wiper fluid wasn't coming out, a problem, but the downpouring of sleet, combined with my defroster, kept my windshield reasonably clean--thank God!

It took me much longer to get to work than usual, but I didn't care; I arrived on time and punched in at 6:30 AM. Now I'm anticipating my ride home. I was going to stop at the gym, since today SHOULD be a gym day, but given the terrible driving conditions and the expected rain-changing-to-snow turnover later, perhaps I'll skip it. I can always go Friday and Saturday, right? Betty, the supervisor who took John C's place, brought in a box of chocolates, and I indulged--heavily. Yes, I'm bad, horrible, and I don't want to know what my blood sugar is right now. I can't help myself, not when it comes to premium chocolates, and I wish Betty hadn't been so generous.

Incidentally, I did call Dan at work to apologize for my bitchy card shortly after I punched in this morning. He assured me he wasn't upset, but his voice after he read the card belied his assurances. What Dan doesn't know is that while I was driving to work this morning, I was playing the "If I had to do it over again. . ." game, and Dan wasn't faring well at all. It didn't help that, as I was leaving, my husband opened a package of baby wipes by cutting the end instead of opening from the top, where the ACTUAL OPENING IS!

I had to leave and couldn't help Dan with his dilemma, but I was thinking how stupid he was, how he didn't notice the obvious opening in the baby wipe package, how he does things like that way too often and why didn't I wait to get married until I was 35 and the guy was richer?

Bad thoughts, very bad thoughts. Dan is one of the GOOD guys, and I know I'm VERY lucky.

Sometimes, though, I don't appreciate him.

Which makes me an asshole.

Love, Robin