On Time Zones and Differing Schedules

Just in case I haven’t mentioned this yet, as of the time of this post, I live in Arizona and have lived here for most of my life even though I say I grew up in the south (south eastern US). I am married to a wonderful and caring man and he is the best part of living in this stupid desert. I hate the heat and become a little more heat INtolerant each year. But I digress…

My husband, I’ve said before, is my Aboji. We have been learning together – well, I’ve been learning then teaching C – and growing in our relationship. He wasn’t surprised when I came out as a little, but he was surprised when I came out as poly…despite our relationship budding out of a threesome. I know, I don’t get it either. So naturally I did a really poor job of explaining poly and my feelings. Not a huge deal, though, until Dada…

Dada lives there. Well, not there, there. He lives in the UK. I’ve said before that our relationship just kind of happened, and it did. I wouldn’t trade a moment of our time together for anything…and we haven’t even met in-person yet. K needs to grow up first, so we’re not anywhere close yet…unless one of us has a financial miracle and we become rich.

Well, I have spent countless hours reassuring Aboji that I’m not leaving him. Dada has spent time reassuring Aboji that I’m not leaving him. That’s fine by me. Apparently the only way I’m going to prove myself is to stay with Aboji and that’s fine by me.

Well, Aboji works nights and has worked nights since before we met. It works for our family. Our kids don’t know any differently, and I think it definitely gives them a unique perspective on family dynamics. But that’s not the point. The point is Dada doesn’t work nights. During the winter Dada is 7 hours ahead of me. During the summer we’re 8 hours apart.

This means our windows for talking to one another are limited. They weren’t so limited when we met because of the pandemic. I wasn’t working because our church was closed. I wasn’t volunteering because our church was closed. I was sleeping less because my mental health had improved. But now…

Now we each need sleep (I’ll even admit to needing significantly more sleep than Dada). We both work…well sort of…if you count 4 hours/week working. We both have children. And I have church (including volunteering) and Aboji. All these things cut down on when we can talk and hang out.

Add in additional sleep due to increased depression, and it’s a miracle we’re able to talk at all. In fact, there have been days when we don’t talk and it’s been entirely my fault. I know there are those of you who are dating who think that’s not a huge deal, but it actually is. Remember, when we met, Dada and I were talking nearly every waking moment every day. Now there are days when we don’t talk. I’m trying to be better about it, but I am nowhere near where I’d like to be. The worst days are when I literally sleep the entire day, finally waking up around midnight in the UK. I feel guilty for the whole night.

Sorry, friends, for the depressing post. I only persisted because it’s important for me to be transparent. I am not perfect and I never will be. Thanks for bearing with me tonight.

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