Huh. So this is new.

Tonight GH went to a Weezer concert with some friends. He sneakily arranged for a friend to buy a ticket for him waaaay back when we were engaged. This was because he figured once we were married I would assume the Financial Dominatrix role and never let him have any fun ever again, ever. Which, hi, is totally untrue. Because sitting around Basking in the Righteous Glow of Not Spending Money is pretty much the definition of fun, thank you. Also I let him buy a song off iTunes every now and then. I'm just a giver like that.

So anyway, he was going to go straight to work after the concert, and I kept looking for him to pop up in my Gmail contacts. Except he didn't. Forty-five minutes after he was supposed to be at work, I texted him and asked how the concert was.

No answer.

At which point I wondered if maybe he was in a car accident caused by a pot-smoking concert-goer and was horribly mangled or dead somewhere, and if so they probably wouldn't even know to call me at the hospital, and so I had better keep my phone with me while I sleep so that if someone calls in the middle of the night to give me the bad news I don't miss their call. And then I thought about what I would even do if something happened to him and I may have possibly had a bit of an attack. First I thought about what a sad wreck I would be, and how I probably wouldn't be able to afford to live in our apartment anymore, but like I would even want to with all the memories, and what would I do with his stuff, and then OH MY GOSH this would mean I would be BACK TO BEING SINGLE AGAIN, SOME MORE. Only I would be this tragic WIDOW Singleton which would make Round 2 an even bigger suckfest than Round 1 was and I would probably have to take a whole lot of medication and not be able to hold down a job which would mean that I would have to move in with my parents in Alaska and wander out in a snowstorm to get eaten by a bear or wolverine.

And then I had to stop thinking because I was about to throw myself down a stairwell at the unfairness of it all. Pulled myself together and texted him again: "Please just text me so I know you didn't get in a wreck." Two minutes later he called to say that the concert got out late, and that he was driving during my original texts. He didn't want to text back because, you know, that would be a good way to actually get in a wreck. Which I now know I am against. Everyone, please remember to wear seatbelts. And to not drive while drunk or high. And to please not hit GH with your big dumb trucks.

But seriously, way to freak out. Has this happened to anyone else? I imagine it's even worse once you have kids and you start imagining the things that could befall them.

Posted in: a better way to live