Heather Time

There was a catch-phrase that really caught on around the time that my father passed away. That phrase was (insert your name) Time. It started with Scott, who was a bit overwhelmed by all of the family presence and then got an infection to boot. He said that he needed some "Scott Time," and it would be understood that he just needed to get away from the madness for a minute. Gradually the phrase was used for just about anyone, particularly my aunt's introverted husband who needed to have some Bob Time.

I've been thinking about this lately because I've really been wanting some Heather Time. My husband hasn't been working the last couple of weeks (we'll call that a voluntary temporary hiatus, scheduled to end on July 5), and so we have been spending more than an average amount of time together. This is not incredibly unusual, really, as his job usually has him home before I get home. But, before there had been pockets of time for Heather Time. There hasn't been much lately.

But, tonight he is out with the boys. Sweet Georgia Brown!

Don't misinterpret that I don't like spending time with my husband. I do and generally I prefer large quantities. More is better!

But. When I have Heather Time, I can watch all of the Felicity and Gilmore Girls and whatever other estrogen tv may suit me. I can talk on the phone without having to leave the comfort of my couch because my loud talking interferes with the tv. (Not disputing that this is true, though.) I can drink wine for dinner. Our cats will remember that I live here too and come and talk to me. I can wear pore reducing masks around the house and not have to worry about being green-faced and weirder than usual.

But, best of all, having Heather Time allows me to miss having Scott around. Makes me appreciate him more. Makes me less grouchy. Which is a much-needed development in my personality, I can assure you.

It's important to get your (Insert Your Name Here) Time. It makes you appreciate your The Rest of the Damned World Time. :^)