The light at the end of the tunnel just disappeared

I've been calling my mom for stupid, meaningless reasons lately, in increasing amounts.

It used to be our Saturday or Sunday night thing; now it's our Monday afternoon, Wednesday night, Saturday morning, Sunday evening thing ... And I am so homesick it's not even funny.

I realize outside circumstances might have led to this neediness to talk to someone about something like their personal preference for window sill types, their thoughts on my Saturday afternoon plans, what they're having for dinner, what I'm having for dinner, what I'm doing at that exact moment ... But who cares.

I overheard someone at work talk about the time they spent with their mom over the weekend and instead of my calm, so-what attitude I usually have on from 8:30 a.m. to 5 p.m., this was total jealousy. Ugly, smoke-coming-out-of-my-ears jealousy. Kind of makes ya want to quit your job and move back to your parent's basement, doesn't it?

Only then I remember we'd be broke, we're just now getting those new windows, she eats meatloaf for dinner a lot and I have Dave to cook for me; and she has cricket and spider problems in her house ... And I see the wise response is just to hate her boss for making her work the day after Thanksgiving, hate The Man for making me work at all, hate the man (for surely it was a man) who made weekends just two days to a five-day workweek, and to loathe all 500 or so of those miles between us. Especially the Indiana portion of them.

Ugh. Sorry. Back to be reasonable now.