Okay, I'm home.
Home! I'm home! I'm home with absolutely no plans to get on another airplane in the near or distant future. Which is good, because I think I got some bad Dramamine this past trip. I had to lie down for an hour when I got home Sunday. Anyone reading this who gets motion sickness will understand that horrible feeling of closing your eyes while the plane descends and hoping, hoping, hoping that you won't get sick. I didn't, but it was close.
So now I'm home and trying to get back into my routines. I'm also trying to avoid the fact that my house is a shambles. I have bread to bake and books to write, quilts to quilt, socks to knit. Must I clean the bathroom as well?
Fact #1: If I don't, nobody else will.
Fact #2: The bathroom will not clean itself.
Fact #3: While I'm a hussy and a slacker on the best of days when it comes to housecleaning, even I have my limits.
Fact #4: When I walked into the downstairs this morning and looked around, I realized my limits had been reached. It's gone from being your average sort of "sink could use a scrub" bathroom to a rather prolific petri dish of wonders and, yes, I believe, fungi.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will clean the bathroom and de-crud the stove top and fold the laundry and mow the kitchen floor. I will think about the upcoming holidays. I have this crazy thought that maybe I'll get my Christmas shopping done early so I might actually have a spiritual experience sometime around December 25th. It's never happened before, but a girl can dream.
Tonight I'm going to continue to enjoy the feeling of not flying. Of not anticipating my next trip and planning my life around it. Of having long stretches of days to do what needs to get done--and, even better, doing what I want to do, like write books and bake bread, quilt quilts and knit socks. Sounds dreamy!
And whenever I have to walk into the bathroom, I'll just close my eyes.
It's good to be home.
Deposit from a Distance
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