Not My Favorite Friday

Dearest Friday --

Not such a fan.

Love, Meg

Yes, it's true: I am officially angry with most people's favorite day of the week. The long-awaited end of the work-week, the start of two glorious days off... but I'm not happy. Sure, I have plenty of reasons I could stretch the truth just a little and say it's been a decent week. I've had a few mediocre runs. I got brand-spankin'-new running shoes... and boy did they feel good this morning. I've had a couple good meals, watched an ok movie or two, and gotten a little bit of sleep. I'm heading out tonight with my wonderful mother (Hi, Mom!) for what should be an excellent concert. All pretty good reasons to be happy, I know. But unfortunately this morning brought one very large, very ugly reason to be unhappy that seems to outweigh all of the good right now... I missed my first phone call.

I've heard it over and over: as a military wife it is essential to keep your phone so close to you at all times that people begin to wonder if it's been surgically attached. You never know when they'll call and you never know how long it might be before the next phone call, so you'd darn well better not miss it. There is no way to call him back, or even to send him a message asking him to try again. If you've missed it, you've missed it, and you're not going to get those precious minutes of hearing his voice back. And me? Well... I missed it. By seconds. I heard my phone vibrating as I rounded the corner to my desk, and I grabbed for it and swiped down to answer as quickly as my little fingers possibly could, but I was too late. I watched as the call clicked away and I sank down in my chair. And for the first time, I may have shed a few very silent tears from within the four three and a half walls of my cubicle. (Please don't report me to my former self)

I've also heard that it is heartbreaking to miss a call, but I never fully grasped the weight of that sadness until this morning. I was helpless -- I wanted so badly to scream at my phone "I was HERE! I was ANSWERING!!!" But unfortunately smart phones are only so smart, and I doubted that my little Incredible was incredible enough to reverse time so I could have grabbed it just 5 seconds faster. I was even more crushed when I heard my sweet hubby's voice on the message he left... he sounded so sad and exhausted, and I felt horrible that I had missed my chance to encourage him, remind him that I loved him, and reassure him that this will all be over soon. (It will, won't it? Please tell me it will...)

So today, I am mad at Fridays, and at cell phones, and at the thousands of miles that separate me from my love. I know that he will call again eventually, and even though it may take days, I doubt I'll be okay again until the next time he does... and I answer before my phone even gets to the second note of its ring. I apologize for the downer of a post today, and as thanks for sticking with me this long, I leave you with a little random something that just might make you smile:

[via]

   Love,

    Meg