Never Further Away From My Next Vacation Than Now.

Video-taped the “reunion” with my cats. Fell into my bed and wondered if it was this cloud-like before we left. Slept, like a log. Woke up and had a drawn out argument with myself whether to go back to sleep of not. Captain “responsible” won and I dragged myself out of bed at 10am. Is it possible to have jet lag on a 2 hour time difference? I think I just have vacation hang over. I overindulged in too much R&R and now I can’t stop. Couldn’t put one thing together for breakfast. Drank coffee. Black. Washed 7 loads of laundry. Tracked sand all over my house. Refused to sweep it up. Went grocery shopping. $167 spent in 40 mins. Moved piles of stuff from one room to the next. Realized I was spreading out the mess more than unpacking. Decided to cook instead. Zuppa Toscana soup (like olive garden). Played with my newest lovebird (I never say “no” to other people’s unwanted pets… even the rat I was somewhat scared of). Got angry with no-name bird because she bit my ear. Pouted in the living room and ate chocolates. Pushed the piles around some more. Looked at the tornado I made and said, “your Sunday-self is gonna hate you.” Went for a walk in the rain. Heart hurt a little when I saw the vegetation they ripped out along the stairs to the beach. Turned the IPOD off and listened to the rain drops being swallowed by the ocean. Took some deep breaths and smiled at the beauty of this place I call home. Got stared down by a heron. Swore he was judging me. Ran into a friend at the top of the stairs. Got into a conversation. Realized it was a bad choice to be talking so long when the rain soaked through my last layer of clothing. Walk turned into a run when I could no longer feel my hands. Ran like the dickens to try to warm up. Cold and breathless, never warm. Hot bath. Packed for work. Bid farewell to the Villa for the next 24 hrs. Fought the feeling of dread on the way in. 

My first 18 hrs home.