Tonight as I got off work, I called my husband at work. (He works PT at applebees in the summer to supplement his teaching checks.)
I was planning on stopping there for a little supper and was letting him know I ws on my way. When I called the host told me he hadn't shown up for work that day.
Jaysen is one of the most responsible persons I know, so that was completly out of character. I was a little worried, so I called home.
He was not at home, so of course what do I think. "There must have been some horrible accident and I've lost my husband forever."
I knew somthing was wrong, I felt sick about it. Jaysen knows I worry like a maniac so he always leaves me a message when he is going out.
So I pull up towards our building and see the flashing light of police cars. Now I think, hes been murdered, he went out for a jog and was mugged or some equally horrible event.
I pull into my sopt and who do I see. JAYSEN! Finishing an afternoon run not a care in the world. I don't know whether to hug him or punch him.
I do the first, give him a hug in all his sweaty glory, and thank the Lord he is safe in my arms.
Yep, I'm an obsessive worrier.