torn

the day after tomorrow i get to get the heck outta dodge for four whole days. time with the girls, cranberry fest, plenty of sleeping in and general sloth-like behavior.

and yet.

and yet . . .

(-get out your barf bags-)

i’m not thrilled about leaving david. it’s only four days, i know. we’ve been apart longer, i know. he’ll still be here when i get back, i know. and yet i still feel a tad pouty about it.

who knew i’d end up being one of these types of girls?

can someone hand me one o’ those bags?