Last night I was home alone. My darling spent the night at a hotel in the Bay Area. (Tonight he will come back to me, thank heavens.) This morning he has his first contested hearing. Other hearings have been administrative. This hearing is dispositive and could determine the whole case. Eeeek. The poor guy was reasonably tense about it.
The coolest part is that the hearing is in the same courthouse as Scott Peterson’s trial. And at the same time as Peterson’s lawyers will be making their preliminary motions. I told Kevin he should try to sneak in to see it. That’s what I would do if I were him!
On being home alone . . . Before Kev left, I was in self-pity mode. He told me, "Yeah, it’s creepy to be home by yourself." Thanks for the warning, Kev! Seriously, though . . . Every shadow was the boogeyman. Every creaking noise was a burglar. It’s horrible. I think I’ve read too many mystery novels and seen too many jump-scene movies. (And can I convince you that generally I’m NOT a paranoid person?!) Several times in our young marriage, I’ve left Kevin home alone for the night and have gone off gallivanting. So, I guess I finally got what was coming to me. And I am proud to say that, as I finally drifted off to sleep, I only left two lights on, and only checked the locks on the doors and windows three times.
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