Db called me from Madrid last night. He should have been on his way home by 11:00 a.m., Madrid time. Not. He should have been landing in our near-by big city at 7:40p.m. Not. He called me from JFK at 6:30p.m. His flight from Madrid was delayed 10 HOURS, so he had spent the day finding new flights for himself and three others. Not an easy task. He won't be home until nearly midnight. Darn.
Now I'm REALLY bored. I expected he would be home shortly. I bought a pizza to bake for a "snack" for him. I had only a snack at supper so I could eat with him. I've vacuumed, washed the kitchen floor, changed the sheets, lit the candles; now what? Flying isn't all it's touted to be. I swear he could have gotten home from NYC faster driving. He sounded exhausted already last night. Since Saturday, he has taken 7 different planes this week, and still one to go. Well, enough complaining. I guess I'll go watch TV. What I really want is a huge bowl of cappucino (capuccino?)ice cream with hot fudge sauce, but I'll settle for ice water. Bah!
I know I've been complaining since Sunday that this has been a loooooonnnnnng week. DB should have been walking in the door by now, or in 30 min. at least.
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