How I Deal

Many people have wondered how I handle my husband being on the road so much. 

Honestly, I can say that sometimes I handle it like one of those Stepford wives -- patiently waiting for my husband to call, off to lunch dates and tea parties with my friends, and always with a smile.

Other times, I handle his absence like a Stepford wife with a wire or two loose -- anxiously waiting for his call, not wanting to see my friends, and throwing a temper tantrum.

It's very hard not feeling resentful sometimes when he's sharing sleeping quarters on a big tour bus with the likes of "Paradiso Girls" and "Girlicious", supervising after parties, and having lunch and dinner with these women when all the while you're just wishing he was home spending time with you. These are the times when I really do have to listen to the voices in my head telling me that "it's just a job. Chillax!" 

To my husband's credit, he does his very best to keep the home fires burning. He calls just about every day when he's away. Occasionally, we Internet conference and when he is working in an amazing city for an extended period of time he'll fly me out to be with him. I've practically traveled around the world this way. 

But I am a woman, and most women, I admit, are emotional. On a scale from 1-10, one being completely stoic and ten being completely crazy, I tend to lean toward the higher end of the spectrum, especially during certain times of the month. This is when I really don't have patience for just about anything or anyone and the emotions are off the charts. Brace yourself.

It is day four since my husband left to do a few shows in Miami with Erika Jayne, a pop-artist who's still making her rounds at the clubs but steadily gaining popularity with the late night crowds. Her song "Stars" is straight up dance disco and she has a twist of Madonna in her voice.

My husband is staying at the W hotel. The four-star accommodations on Florida's South Beach accommodates just about anything except cell service so he's having me call his room. 

"Welcome to the Whatever, Whenever experience," the receptionist answers. 

"Is this a hotel?" I ask.

"Yes this is the W," he says, "where you can have a Whatever, Whenever experience." 

"Ooookaaay," I lag and quickly give him my husband's room number so he can transfer me. "Whatever," I say to myself. 

Anyways, the truth is, I've been in a "whatever" kind of mood since my husband left for work. Presumably, the word is my reply to everything lately. This has been irritating my husband simply because he hates the word "whatever" -- especially when it's coming from my mouth. 

So I'm sure he's just loving his stay at a place where he can have the "Whatever, Whenever" experience. Oh well, if he's not having one at the hotel then he is definitely having the ultimate "whatever" experience on the phone.

"So what do you want to talk about?" he asks.

"Whatever," I say.

It's one of those times when the distance has put me in a blah-blah mood. I guess I could have joined him in Miami but I opted to skip this trip since we're planning a huge vacation in the next few months. But that hasn't changed the fact that since his departure I've really had no motivation to do anything, what-so-ever.

My treadmill and I had a staring contest today and I pretty much won. I'm also eating things that I really should not be eating like Subway sandwiches and cookies. I might as well swallow a fistful of gluten. Hey, at least I'm eating something because usually when my husband goes, so does my appetite. Will someone please offer me some cheese to go with this whine???

Back to the telephone conversation. Our little long-distance chat is just that -- very little chatting. There are, however, lots of long intervals of silence. I'm in our apartment and near my laptop, so I have resulted to working on this blog while I listen to him breathe in his "Whatever, Whenever" hotel room. Exciting, I know. 

"You're boring," he finally says.

"I'm boring?!" I exclaim. 

"What are you doing?," he asks

"Nothing," I say.

"Something."

"Whatever." 

This conversation is obviously going nowhere so I ask him if he's going to call me later. He says he doesn't know because he has two shows tonight. Work will wrap at about 3:30 a.m. his time. Fun, fun.

"OK," I say. "Call me later then, or whenever."

He laughs.

"Whatever," I say.

"Whatever, whenever!" he says sarcastically, still laughing.

We get off the phone. I roll my eyes and can't help but chuckle for a few seconds. Thank goodness he can't see this. I've really got to get myself together. Now I'm fighting back tears. I just miss him so much. 

Wifey of a Roadie a.k.a Stepford wife with a wire loose or whatever! - out!