Best Husband EVAR

I’m writing this to make lunchtime get here faster. I’m starving, despite the fact that I just ate most of a candy bar (it wasn’t a very good candy bar, much to my disappointment). My head still feels oogy. I’m just not recovering from this as quickly as I’d like to. Last night was our ninth anniversary, and we did nothing just as planned. Nothing at all. On Friday we might go out to Bruno’s for dinner. We’re exchanging very, very small presents (CD size and COST, we both promised). Next year, on year 10, we’ll have to have a big bash. My friend, Dave and his wife are married 10 years this year and they are going to England to celebrate. I can’t decide whether to ask for a trip to England or a big honking diamond. Or both. Hopefully next year we won’t be in the financial dire straits that we are this year and we can reward each other with money to equal our love and gratitude. I don’t know whether I’ve ever stated this in my journal, but my husband is the best man ever. I wouldn’t trade him for another human being, living or dead. Time goes on, and maybe I start to take him for granted some, but I rely on him so much and I need him so much and I love him so much and he never fails to make me smile. He’s the shoreline to my tide. I sway and come in and go out and change every day, but he ever remains steadfast, holding me up and anchoring me to the world. I am truly blessed to be able to share even a year of life together with him, much less nine. As usual when I stop to contemplate how fortunate I am, I cannot help but also feel undeserving. I did nothing to get the greatest guy ever.

Lucky again! It’s lunchtime! More later.