Man...these weekends are way too short.

Man now works 9 days on and 5 days off. That means that, every couple of weeks, his weekend will be during my week. When I have class. And work. It stinks.

Day one:
Me: "Want to take a shower?"
Man: "Not especially"
When we get back from running errands, he heads straight for the kitchen and gets the Nutella out. He clutches it like it's his first born.
Man: "Will you get me bread?"
Me: "Like, go to the store?"
Man: "No... it's in the car"
The car is about 100 feet away.
I say no.

He falls asleep about two minutes later, and proceeds to take up the entire bed. Here I've been sleeping on my side every night since he left for work; mostly out of habit. Apparently his body has no such habit. I try not to take offense.

Oh well.

I'm sad about how stressful our short breaks together have become. If he's here over the weekend, everybody is demanding his time; family, friends, and myself. If he's here during the week, I'm so busy I barely notice.

We try to cram so much stuff into a very short couple of days, and have barely had two seconds alone in the past few weeks. Tonight we went to the premier of "Terminator: Salvation". I liked it. He loved it. He fell asleep right when we got home.

*Sigh*

I guess I can't win.

Such is life, and he's worth waiting for. He leaves today, and I'd better get some sleep so we can spend time together in between my classes.