I’m sitting here stuck in a hotel room. It’s not time to leave for the airport but too close to time to leave for the airport to go do anything. We won’t get home until at least 9 tonight which means an entire day basically wasted. There was a time in my life that a morning in a hotel room without kids would have been heaven, a luxury. Now, it’s just boring. I packed early since the hotel fire alarm keeps going off at random times and I don’t want to be stuck in the lobby during another false alarm, unpacked, and then it would be time to depart. The one book I’m carrying is already 1/2 done; I need to save something for the plane. I’ve played Mahjong Titans until I see tiles floating in front of my eyes when I blink, then switched over to Freecell until I hit game 18663 which finally infuriated me so much I closed the window, thus ensuring my first loss; but not before I even googled ‘freecell 18663 solution’ which didn’t garner me any help. I wanted to workout this morning but several days of too much rich food have torn up my stomach so bouncing on a treadmill didn’t seem a smart thing to do.
Now that I have too much time on my hands I have plenty of time to fight off thinking about the news #4 imparted this week. I left him in charge of the house, showed him all the watering of plants and feeding of animals and he nodded and comprehended (still novel to me, after 29 years of one to four kids in the house, I can’t get used to them actually listening and comprehending. That they never did it when home must have carved a large canyon in my memory that I cannot seem to cross) and even pleasantly nodded and agreed to spray pheromones everywhere despite the fact that it’s really a first world problem, a cat who needs pheromones, and would normally have gotten me, at the least, a roll of the eyeballs. I was, in fact, vaguely disappointed, I was looking forward to what snarky but funny comment he might make.
Nope, #4 was completely mellow. #4 was completely mellow because #4 got a job interview with a small firm in Manhattan. Like, Manhattan, New York City, New York, New York. Manhattan, one mile south of Central Park and a few blocks north of Park Avenue. Not only did he get the interview; he got the job. And he’s moving in two weeks.
Am I wrong, or did I just recently write about #3 moving out of the country in the space of two weeks?
Nope, I did. He’s in Brazil. I got an email from him a week ago. No one has called trying to explain to me in Portuguese that he’s not been seen since, so I’m assuming he’s alive and doing well. I’d considered being snide about it, but refrained.
This identical twin thing must extend to employers.
So, there you go. Emptier nest. I’m so happy for him that I feel rather selfish being sad for me.