homecoming

Back home. Walked in the door Saturday night at around 11:45 pm and immediately started bagging trash left on the counters (so many empty pasta boxes and 7up bottles…). Gathered up three full bags of trash, not counting the already-full kitchen trash, and wiped down the kitchen countertops. Is it weird for this to be my priority upon returning home? I wrangled things into a state of minimal acceptability and then went to bed.

Back to muggy 92-degree weather (this is the lovely Midwestern summer, which we cherish) and rarely leaving the house before noon. Back to my morning mocha—top tier comfort food, although I’m pleased to observe I am not addicted to caffeine because most days on the trip I had orange juice instead and felt no worse or different. No more fine dining; back to “egg rolls or ramen for lunch?” (For the record I had egg rolls Sunday and ramen Monday.)

Also back to figuring out this work project. [...] a literal unicorn [...] [b]ut it’s simply not true that [...]. Yeah, the number is smaller. No, that’s not how it works.