I have returned to the city of sin, and the familiar sound of sirens is lulling me to sleep. I will say that, despite all my 'the east coast is wonderful' blog posts over the past two weeks, I walked into my apartment tonight and felt visceral joy upon arrival, even though it was stuffy from two weeks of abandonment. This is the first trip I've taken in awhile where I've felt that, and lying on my couch tonight was a total delight....
But that doesn't mean I've cured my wanderlust. However, today was exactly the kind of bleak denouement that makes me happy to be home. I woke up later than I should have and earlier than I wanted to (which was also true for Terry, although she had to go to work and I just had to pack). I finally got up around nine, threw on some jeans and went across the street to get coffee at Starbucks, and then said my sad farewells to Terry. Chance are I'll see her again in a few months - I know I will be on the east coast again in November for a writing thing, if not sooner. But it will be hard to top the concert + the other things we did anytime soon.
Then I packed, showered, and scurried around, and I went to the airport a little early so I'd have time to eat before my flight. Check-in was uneventful, and I had a cobb salad rather than a cheeseburger because I'm feeling an extreme need to detox - so extreme that I didn't drink any wine at the airport or on the flight, despite the fact that I've somehow become a somewhat anxious flyer and so tend to want to take the edge off (I don't know where that feeling has come from - it's not a fear of crashing, but rather something akin to claustrophobia + lack of control, which I felt temporarily last night while trying to board the subway, since it was one of those crowd situations that could turn into a stampede, even though the chances were slim).
Of course, I regretted my need to detox when the plane was delayed for an hour because they were trying to fix one of the bathrooms, which they eventually gave up on, which meant that there was only one bathroom for all of economy during the six-hour flight. Stupid. But I slept for a couple of hours, and then I listened to 'Lemonade' all the way through, and then I wrote for a couple of hours. This wasn't a bad way to spend a flight, although I probably should have been more productive...but that's going to have to wait until tomorrow.
When I got to SF, I grabbed my bag, took a taxi home (with a v. nice driver), and then made a smoothie and curled up on the couch and caught up on royal gossip and other important things. And I got groceries delivered, so I should be able to work tomorrow without starving to death. But now, sleep is the most important thing - I'm going to have to slog pretty brutally this week to meet my deadline, so detox + sleep are vital. Goodnight!
But that doesn't mean I've cured my wanderlust. However, today was exactly the kind of bleak denouement that makes me happy to be home. I woke up later than I should have and earlier than I wanted to (which was also true for Terry, although she had to go to work and I just had to pack). I finally got up around nine, threw on some jeans and went across the street to get coffee at Starbucks, and then said my sad farewells to Terry. Chance are I'll see her again in a few months - I know I will be on the east coast again in November for a writing thing, if not sooner. But it will be hard to top the concert + the other things we did anytime soon.
Then I packed, showered, and scurried around, and I went to the airport a little early so I'd have time to eat before my flight. Check-in was uneventful, and I had a cobb salad rather than a cheeseburger because I'm feeling an extreme need to detox - so extreme that I didn't drink any wine at the airport or on the flight, despite the fact that I've somehow become a somewhat anxious flyer and so tend to want to take the edge off (I don't know where that feeling has come from - it's not a fear of crashing, but rather something akin to claustrophobia + lack of control, which I felt temporarily last night while trying to board the subway, since it was one of those crowd situations that could turn into a stampede, even though the chances were slim).
Of course, I regretted my need to detox when the plane was delayed for an hour because they were trying to fix one of the bathrooms, which they eventually gave up on, which meant that there was only one bathroom for all of economy during the six-hour flight. Stupid. But I slept for a couple of hours, and then I listened to 'Lemonade' all the way through, and then I wrote for a couple of hours. This wasn't a bad way to spend a flight, although I probably should have been more productive...but that's going to have to wait until tomorrow.
When I got to SF, I grabbed my bag, took a taxi home (with a v. nice driver), and then made a smoothie and curled up on the couch and caught up on royal gossip and other important things. And I got groceries delivered, so I should be able to work tomorrow without starving to death. But now, sleep is the most important thing - I'm going to have to slog pretty brutally this week to meet my deadline, so detox + sleep are vital. Goodnight!
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