The Anxious Control Freak

So it's official! Bubba comes home this week! I'm a ball of nerves. He leaves from Afghanistan on Wednesday, and says he should get home on Thursday or early Friday. Then I thought, "Wait. He's 10.5 hours ahead of us! His Wednesday starts on our Tuesday evening. Does he mean that he'll be here late Thursday night instead of early Friday?" I can't decide it I should sleep with my clothes on or not! What if he calls in the middle of the night, and we have to up and drive to Atlanta? Not that I wouldn't gladly do that, but ahhhhh I can't stand not having everything planned out! He's supposed to be texting and letting me know something.

I guess that for 7 months I have dreamed of when he would come home and what it would be like. In my mind I imagine Jason and I getting there just in time to wait for a few minutes. Then, from afar, we see him coming with his sweet little uniform on. In that time we will grin and embrace each other while everyone in the airport claps. Now, that's a hero's return! Ah, do you think I've been watching too much Army Wives? Why is it that moments you dream of never can reach the level of perfection you created? Then, every day little moments that you never expect are what you'll remember forever...

FYI: I STILL haven't heard back from the tendon transfer lady. I've left her a message and emailed. I'm dying. Once again, can you tell I'm a control freak?