Barf

Sitting in the GRK airport, I am acutely aware of the fact that I may or may not be about to heave my Monster M-80 all over myself. Any minute now, my grey luggage will be covered in a fizzy primrose barf ambrosia, I'm almost certain. It has been one of those mornings-well, days that has bled into a new morning, with nary a wink of sleep. My darling man and I parted ways today, he on his way to the Mojave for a month and I home to the east coast, so I was up all night packing and doing last-minute cleaning I swore I would do days ago. I cannot stand the thought of coming back to a grody apartment with eggs and sour cream and steak all becoming science experiments in the fridge, so I did a thorough sweep-through and made myself feel a little better. This trip was slightly unexpected for me. I had planned on staying behind and working, but all my most promising job prospects fell through, so once again disappointed and discouraged I hung my head and conceded that it was best not to be alone for so long with nothing to do and nowhere to go and no one to talk to.

I have been plagued with a chronic morning sickness since the first day of high school, when jitters got the best of me and I spent most of first period in the bathroom with my head out the window, desperate for a restorative breeze to cool my face and calm nerves. The Monster was a bad idea, but I'm drinking it because he bought it for me and was all sweet and cutesy like. He is on standby for his flight but had to be in early to wait around all day, so we said a rushed goodbye outside the airport and shared a brief but cozy embrace in the chilly morning air. We exchanged "I love you's" and last glances over shoulders and he made my heartbeat just a little faster (or was it that damn M-80 again?). I miss his little face already. I need to get on this plane and then the other plane and fall asleep and forget about feeling sick and tired and lonesome. No gagging just yet; I just need to sleep against something that smells like him and wait for this foolery to be over. It can't come soon enough. I'll be waiting.

Did I mention today is our anniversary?