Today is Valentine's Day and I've seen DH all of 30 minutes in the last three days. He's been doing some noxious work thing all week, and staying out all night, though he did come home to sleep a couple of hours this morning before going back to the salt mines. I had the brilliant idea of texting him a little while ago -- I had an electronic glitch and I think I may have asked the wrong person if he'll be home for dinner! I'm too embarrassed to check my message history, so I expect there may be a bit of humiliation in my future. Thank heavens I didn't attempt to say anything sexy (or even worse, funny)!
Sending a Valentine text to the wrong person pretty much sums up how this week is going for me. I went to the doctor for a sinus infection last week, but he doesn't think I have one. He wanted me to have a CT scan to rule out a brain tumour, which he says he doesn't think I have (thanks, dude). Seeing as how this is the third time he's said the words "brain tumour" to me in the last year, I finally decided to give in and have the damn CT, in spite of the radiation. I know he feels he needs to protect himself legally, and I can respect that. I also know that I'd prefer to be well and truly sure that I don't have a brain tumour since it apparently comes to mind for him every time I see him. I suspect it comes to his mind because he thinks I'm so peculiar -- I obviously need my head examined!!!
And maybe I do. I stopped at the Office Max on the way home and was waited on by a clerk wearing a huge hat edged with fluffy pink feathers. She told me it was for "VD" and I admit that it didn't dawn on me that she meant Valentine's Day until I was almost home.
Hope your VD is nice...