Mr. Hill is home. Or Elder Hill? I don't know what to call him these days. Maybe just Paul for now.
He was so jet lagged that he fell asleep while talking to me on the phone. It didn't help that he was still under the influence of his sleeping pill, which he took to help him on the long flight home. But from what I could gather from his slurred speech-- he had a great time in Israel. Next he has his mission... 23 days left. Okay, I just got a little nauseated when I thought of that.
Paul is my best friend. I can't believe that he's actually growing up and moving on.
I really don't want to be one of those girls who whines and moans as she counts down the seconds until her missionary comes home. But now that I'm almost-kinda-but not really- in that position, I almost understand why. Do not worry, I won't turn this blog until a bawl fest. Some times I just need to get it out there! I am going to miss him!
Anyway, I'm tired. I'm excited for Memorial Day! Mmmm BBQ with the family down the street!
-just little old Me(g)