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Yesterday, after working a horrendous 6 days out of 7 total, I was tired. So tired, in fact, that when I woke up at noon-ish (a mere 4.5 hours of sleep, thankyouverymuch), I could not move. So I laid in bed for almost an hour, browsing blogs and facebook, until my limbs worked. I got up, stumbled to the shower, ate lunch, had a chat with my mom and sister, and came home.

The drive seemed longer than normal, probably because I was just. so. exhausted. Not sleepy, but physically TIRED. Finally I got to Birmingham, and promptly PASSED MY EXIT, which caused me to burst into tears and call Mark, crying: "I *gasp* just passed the 31 exit *sob* WHERE DO I GO??? *meltdown*" My poor brain was so overused and worthless at this point that I couldn't figure out the roads that I drove for four years. Mark lovingly talked me through it, even staying calm while I yelled at him, and I did indeed arrive safely.

I have never been this glad to see mark, except for twice before, out of the six years we've known each other: the first was after our summer apart while he was in spain, the second, after he returned from his safari in kenya. There are a lot of things I love about Mark. I've always loved them - but this last week, I MISSED them. We've never been apart for that long before, since being married. The one time we were apart for an extended amount of time was when I went on vacation with my mom and sister, and I was gone five days, and very much wanted to be away (not from mark, but wanted to be IN hilton head), and was NOT working and was NOT tired. And still, I missed him sorely. This time however, I ached for him, especially a couple of days. After I got home yesterday, I was weepy, mostly because I was tired, but partly because I was just so thankful to be with him again. Anytime he did anything nice or typically wonderful of him, I would cry.

Case in point:
Mark was saying that he really hoped I would hear something from my applications soon, so I could make a permanent move to this place we love. I agreed, but admitted that I hadn't called the manager or nurse recruiter or anybody. Mark shrugged, smiled at me, and said "Who cares?"
And I started to cry. Because he understands. Because for days, all I've heard is advice about being a pest until they hire me, about marching in with references and jobs falling in my lap, about calling everybody who works on that unit, about making myself known... Because this wonderful man I married knows how tired I am, knows that there's only so much that I can handle, knows I'm sick of hearing it, and just loves me. Job in Birmingham or not. And that, my friends, is why I love my husband.