no love from chicago

I had been wanting to visit the grande city of Chicago for quite some time now. My husband, who travels about 2-3 weeks out of the month during the winter/spring seasons to the greatest cities of the country (lucky bastard), has always raved that Chicago was one of this favorite places to visit. I was approached with the opportunity to travel this very excursion for a marketing conference last week and, to my pleasant surprise, my husband was coincidentally traveling to Chicago during the same time. Since the odds were so rare, I took advantage of the situation by lengthening my trip an extra day with the hope of seeing the sights and spending some romantic time with my main squeeze.

Oh, but if only the stars were aligned for such luck.

Thursday night the Devil himself peered down from the gates of Hell and granted me with a stomach virus to beat all stomach viruses. Sprinting from the bathroom back to my Hilton-esque bed every 20 minutes was all that the future held for me from that night on. This wonderful experience lasted clear into Monday afternoon; destroying any hope for romance, sight-seeing, or seeing anything, that is, outside of my hotel room.

Now that I am finally feeling back to my old self again, I am really excited for this weekend to come around to enjoy the beautiful weather, get knee-deep into some yard work, and catch up on that lost romantic time with my hubby. His return from Chicago this evening also means that I have him all to myself until June when he is off to Las Vegas (I told you he got to travel to cool places!) for another two weeks. Until then, I actually have my husband back!