If this doesn’t work, I’m quitting.

So, I think Valentine’s Day may not be all it’s hyped up to be. 

It’s just another day to me. 

I don’t care about overpriced flowers or candy, or mushy cards expressing endless love. 

I do, however, care about spending time with my husband.

Wait, a husband?  I actually have one of those?  Somehow, I don’t view a man that I spend approximately three coherent hours with a week as a husband.

I am so happy that he is finally getting into something he will enjoy, and spending every moment he has working hard toward that finish line, but lately I feel like a crazy woman who spends her time talking to her dogs as she would her husband.

It’s hard.  It’s frustrating.  It’s lonely.  But, it’s necessary and it’ll all be worth it in the end.  I know this.  But sometimes a girl just needs to complain.

So tomorrow, between his hours of studying and when he leaves at 7 pm for clinicals all night long,  I will be making us a nice dinner.

That part of it is just ducky.  It’s the 16,000 pound elephant I have sitting on my shoulders in anticipation of cooking beef tenderloin that has me freaking out.  Something I’ve never attempted, and something I am positive I will fail at.

See, if there is one thing I do extremely well when cooking, it’s not being able to gauge when a piece of meat is properly cooked.  Also read as:  Always overcooking the meat. 

I’ve yet to learn to ignore the annoying, nagging glitch in my brain that tells me to keep on cooking that meat, it’s not even close yet.  

So, I am hoping for a miracle to happen tomorrow when I stick that little piece of heaven in an oven at almost 500 degrees.  Wish me luck!