2 minutes, 35 seconds

Today I got to speak to the Mountie for a whole 2 minutes and 35 seconds!

It’s definitely better than nothing, but it’s rough. It feels like I’m building up all of these things to tell him and then I get on the phone and just say my day was “fine.”

Which it was. I went to the gym today a little later than I intended so there was a class of 11 year olds watching me do sled pulls. It was cute, they were counting up how much weight I was pulling and seemed very impressed.

Hooray, I impress 11 year olds!

Listening to:

Why My Husband Being At Depot Scares Me

I got to speak to the Mountie this weekend for a new record time – 18 minutes.

However, I think I’ve pinned down what I’m really afraid of while he’s at Depot.

I’m afraid of being left behind.

The Mountie is off having all new experiences and new challenges, while I’m at home living the same life we were before he left. It’s a good life, and I’ll keep it warm for him, but I worry that when he gets back, the gap between us will be too big.

This worry is exacerbated by just how infrequently I get to speak to him. We have lived in separate provinces before, going for as long as three months without seeing each other, but we’ve never had this little contact. Previously, we would be chatting, emailing or texting each other constantly during the day. Now, I’m lucky if I get a single text from him, and calls are every couple of days at best.

I suppose part of this is the fear that he won’t be the same guy when he’s done training – or when he’s been a member for 10 years. I worry that policing will turn him into a different man, one I don’t recognize. Or, that he won’t recognize me from his new frame of reference.

I know he needs to focus on his training, and I honestly don’t begrudge him that at all. I just want to be a part of it (insert annoying whining).

 

 

Weekend Musings

20160130_084020
The puppy and I are enjoying a lazy Saturday morning.

The toughest thing so far about being a depot spouse-left-behind is the lack of contact. I know that seems obvious, but when the Mountie and I have been separate before, we’ve pretty much been in constant digital contact.

Since depot seems hell-bent on keeping the Mountie occupied from pre-sunrise to post-sunset, we haven’t had a lot of time to actually talk. I’m hoping we’ll have some time this weekend to sort out the best way to keep in touch. I’m not sure if he even has wifi in his pit (aka room – look at me speaking Mountie).

Goals for this weekend are to figure that out – and to find my dog’s missing collar.

 

I’ve Made a Terrible Mistake

I tried a class at my new gym last night.

Most classes have a soft entry point – “oh, you’re new? Take these mini cans of Coca-Cola, that should be a good weight to start lifting with.”

This class had only two other people and apparently the guy running it missed the mini-Coke memo.

Things I Learned In This Class

  1. Tires are flipping heavy.
  2. Bear crawls and lunges aren’t awful enough – now you put your foot on sliding pads to decrease friction and increase hating your life.
  3. I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow.
chuck
I bought a Chuck Norris calendar to cross off days.

So Very Tidy

It’s Day 2 and the Stress Tidying™ has begun.

The Mountie does not believe I suffer from this compulsion. Mostly because it only happens when I’m alone. When he’s around, I may not be the tidiest of folk. The Mountie himself is a Stress Cleaner™. If only these afflictions were not stressed-based, our house would be sparkly clean.

Currently Listening To:

How Do People Say Goodbye at the Airport?

The Husband left today to become a Mountie.

Moun·tie
ˈmountē/

noun informal

  1. a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

My feelings on this are understandably mixed. I am very, very proud of him. I’m also mildly annoyed that his childhood dream wasn’t to be an accountant.

Overall, I’m frustrated that the training can’t be closer. As it is, I’ll have to tough it out for the next six months. The garbage isn’t going to take itself out each week.