Thursday, May 21

Big Rig

My husband is an extremely intelligent man. The depths of his knowledge of information that you really never thought you would need to know astounds me on a daily basis. Did you know, for example, that pine trees excrete some sort of "poison" around it's roots to prevent anything from growing directly around the base? No? Neither did I, until Russ so eloquently told me. When I first met him and we were in the throes of puppy love and adoring everything about each other this little quirk charmed the pants off me, quite literally. Three years later, however, it has become more tiresome than anything else. I would love to be able to drive past a field without knowing the history of both who created the field, every plant that dwells within that grassy little area, and how someday xyzblahroot may someday save my life.

Regardless, I love him. Through richer or poorer, through sickness and health, etc. etc. My point is Russ is very, very smart. About most things. In fact, in the 36 months we've been together, I've rarely seen him make what they call a "duh" moment. We've gone several months without one of these little oopsies-- on his part, at least. I make them on an hourly basis -- until this morning. My darling husband has been working his butt off for the past several months to try and get into a trucking school so he can get his CDL for as in order to drive them big fancy trucks and make his family some money. Personally, I do not see the appeal in this career and everytime I think about how much he would be gone I sort of want to cry. But this is one of his biggest dreams. Russ dreams of getting out and seeing the country and travelling with nothing tying him down (except his beautiful wife, of course). Doing this and getting paid at the same time would make Russ the equivalent of a kid in a candy store. Because of this I support him in his quest and smile and nod when he talks about how exciting it's going to be.

The biggest issue he is having getting into a trucking school is the money. Anywhere from two to six thousand dollars up front is a whole lot of dollars when your account is negative. How negative, I don't know, because I'm still too busy eating corn dogs. But! There is good news! He can apply for a grant which would just give him the bucketfuls of money as grants are so beautifully meant to do. So he's been going through the process filling out forms, digging through mountains of paperwork to prove that he's not a felon, spending hours in line at the DMV to get his driving record, and pretty much just holding his breath and crossing his fingers and toes. About a week ago Russ got an email inviting him to WorkPlace's big two hour workshop that will qualify him for the grant and tell him everything he needs to know. This morning he woke up like a kid on Christmas morning at the crack of dawn and did the manly bathroom things. Fresh as a daisy, smelling of cologne, and looking as sharp as ever he woke me up, kissed me goodbye, and told me to wish him luck.

Now seeing as he's unemployed and I rarely get time to myself, I popped out of bed as soon as the door clicked shut and relished in my me-time for a total of twenty minutes before I got a text message saying "There's no workshop today... I'm confused. Can you check my email and tell me when it is? It's from Elizabeth something or other." After scanning through the mountains of spam mail I finally found something that looked like an invitation to a work shop from a woman named Jennifer and opened it up. He had the day of the week and the time right. Thursday, 9am to 11am ... on June 11th. Considering the fact that he mistook "Jennifer" as "Elizabeth" I guess I could see how he managed to jump a whole two weeks in advance.

He's home now. My 45 minutes of mememe was fabulous, thank you so much for asking.

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