Home again, home again jiggity jig.

Love My Carpet

It’s quiet here at the ol’ homestead. I landed early afternoon. A brief chat with my mom, bro and grandma whilst picking up the house key made me realize I have/had done much.

We laid out a map and traced my route with high-lighter. It exposed all of the areas I haven’t been to… Ever or recently.

The notion of travel seems foreign right now.

I left in dire need of a long warm bath and nap. I was glad to find electric still here and the place as clean as I had left it.

It’s weird being “home.”

I went out to the bar after some shuteye to meet up with a friend breezing through town.

I left with an immense dread that I am broken in some way. It’s a feeling I had left behind many moons ago, but there it was, stark and defiant and pervasive as atmosphere. It stemmed from nothing said toward me, just my internal dialogue. It surfaced on the way home, but I’m sure some time holding a drooling baby will erase the memory… for a while.

Additionally, some “me” time is in order to process everything and regain the partly clear attitude. This is too soon for post-roadtrip depression.