Well, DH made it home, but not without problems. Within 24 hours of his return, he was burning up with a fever. Today is the first day he awakened and said he felt better. (Relieved sigh)

Now maybe he can look for a new job. I love him very, very much. Seeing him walk through that bus terminal door made my heart burst right out of my chest, plop to the floor and roll to his feet. Scruffy, sleep-deprived, and stinking from riding a bus for 2.5 days, he was still my gorgeous darling. Yeah, I'm seriously besotted with my grumpy old man.

However, our savings had already been severely depleted by our purchase last year of this lovely house we live in. I'd not been able to replenish most of the money, though I managed about a month's worth of stockpile before the budget goes belly up.

One month to find a job before disaster. I'm looking at the month of April with desperation. I'm lighting candles and praying to that he'll find work quickly. We don't need much. A mere $1200 a month net is all we need to make ends meet.

This is also a disaster for my weight loss. My DH is a carb hound who can afford to eat rice, potatoes, bread, cakes, sweets, and starchy vegetables. The man is so thin, it's scary. My new low-carb life is impossible for him to maintain. He's positive he'll starve. (grin) So, I'm baking and cooking just like I used to before my band, and there's fudge in the fridge, chili in the crock pot, and the remains of Monkey Bread on the counter.

I can resist anything but temptation, and having the Monkey Bread on the counter was too much for me yesterday. I sliced off some and hunkered down like a child stealing cookies. Less than five minutes into it, my band made me pay dearly for my naughtiness. Umm...I never want to look at Monkey Bread again. Blech! That HURT. A lot.

I'm a stress eater, and right now I'm very, very grateful for my band. I can only do so much damage before my band reminds me forcefully that I'm not allowed that much self-indulgence.

Today, instead of eating and worrying, I think I'll update my own resume. I may be a disabled old woman, but maybe I can sweep floors or something.