Here, take this barf bag

Scott went to a party tonight without me. I could have gone; I opted not to. I was just feeling tired and not in the mood. I'm a human.

The party was in Cambridge. That means that Scott is driving alone. Fine. I guess.

It's funny, I never got this nervous or worried about anyone driving anywhere before I met Scott. I just don't want to lose him. I can't imagine my life without him in it. The idea that he is hurtling down a highway alone makes me worry.

When his parents were moving, he was delivering some stuff from his parents in NY to his sister in VT and was driving around quite a bit for a few days. I basically had to take to the bed I was so out of my mind. Right now, I'm just in a mild state of worry. It's not even worry so much as a strong desire for him to be home already.

Okay, maybe saying I never got this worried before meeting him is a slight exaggeration. One time a long time ago - I think I might have been in college - I was dropping my parents off at the airport because they were going to Florida to visit my grandparents. I became convinced that they were going to die on a plane. I cried in the car all the way back home. Then when it was time for their return trip, I cried about it in a booth at Bickford's of all places (it is breakfast anytime, after all) and an old lady turned around in her booth to tell me that I shouldn't worry and that it is all in God's hands.

She said God like Gaud. Like the vowel sound in gauze. In case you want to imagine it. I should mention that I was wearing pajama pants in public at the time. I went through a bit of a phase with that.

I guess what this is proving is that I sometimes get worried. And my state of worry about Scott driving home is no where near crying out loud in a Bickford's. That said, I will be hella relieved when he gets his honkey ass home.

I will now turn my eyes upon the TeeVee to distract myself with the SNL.