I’ve just come off a month of running around. It’s been a wild ride, one I wouldn’t exactly dub a vacation. One of those “time off” situations where, wherever you go there are people to see, things to be done, errands to run.
It was wonderful to be gone for a little while; the sun shone every day I wanted it to, my friends were free when I could see them, I didn’t have to worry or stress too much about work (which is usually a constant, considering when you work for yourself your office is everywhere you want to be).
Every time I go I grow a little bit more, or at least I realize how much I have actually changed from one visit to the next. It’s not always so profound but… it’s often good. Just to recognize that change.
But it’s good to be home, back on solid ground again. I’ve never enjoyed being up in the air – literally or figuratively (as though anyone likes confusion in their life…).
But when I think back, aside from floating in a peaceful ocean (probably one of the most relaxing things a girl can ever do), I’ll remember the food.
Wouldn’t that make anyone want to go back again and again and again?