Ships Passing In The Night

In any relationship, time management is an integral part of its healthy upkeep. Everyone has their own requirements for the time they spend with each other and getting things done. But then schedules and demands come into play and things get screwed up. Furthermore, there are two independent sets of these which set off even more conflicts.

Since Posh and I are nine hours apart, obviously time is even more of a premium. We are basically limited to the various tools technology has given us, but even those have their limits. For one, nothing's ever the same as being face to face with another person. And even then, we can't utilize the tools we have all the time. We killed daytime minutes on Posh's cell phone last month, much to the consternation of Princess Bride, her older sister, with whom she pays the bill. Add on to the fact that Posh and I keep very abnormal hours. She's in school and she has roommates that require silence at night so she's out till 2 in the morning at the library lately. Then over the weekend she works crazy nighttime hours at her restaurant. My schedule ain't the easiest either. Basically unavailable all day on Sunday and not available till earliest 10:30 from Monday - Wednesday. Needless to say, time is precious.

Last night, poor Posh was laboring on her paper and I really IM'ed her as she was leaving the library. But in the four minutes she said she would call me, I must have fallen asleep. I didn't hear the phone ring because for some strange reason it was on silent. So we were robbed of an opportunity to maximize the little time we do have. Posh spoke about torture earlier and this is definitely it. Waking up the next morning and knowing for a fact that you missed something, as insignificant as it may have turned out to be.

So now I let her sleep. I can't even call cause of those damn minutes. And all I can do is wait. Sort laundry. Write this blog. Look at pictures repeatedly like if I wish hard enough she will appear in front of me. And it's gray outside.