Transit

Gah, I hate my husband being in transit.

We live between two countries right now. Two countries that couldn’t be further from each other.

Yesterday was airport drop off day ahead of his flight to New Zealand and no matter how many times we do this it doesn’t get any easier. The hardest part though, is most definitely the time when he’s in transit.

Being in transit means being incommunicado. Which sucks.

Not much else to say on the matter really but Chris is currently bound for Brisbane and I’m sat here counting down the hours until we can talk again. You’d think I could be pretty productive in this time to myself – but the opposite is true. I can’t concentrate, can’t hold on to any train of thought at all. It’s like I’m in transition myself.

Ten weeks until he’s back again. Not that I’m counting.