This is the mug that stares back at me every time I pick up my phone.
It never fails to cheer, but for the past few days, it’s also filled me with homesick longing.
There’s no question about it: Seattle is a great town. It feels about as warm and welcoming as a place could be. I’ve made scads of new acquaintances, reconnected with old ones and even run into a few random L.A. types also up here escaping the desert heat.
And this trip itself has been wildly invigorating and deeply gratifying. I’d come hoping for some perspective and was rewarded not only with that (and in spades), but absolute confirmation that direction I’ve come out of this year of wandering with is the right one.
No wonder this place has started to feel like home.
Today, though, for the first time, the pull to go home-home felt stronger than the desire to stay here. I don’t doubt that The BF having to cancel his plans to fly up, hang out, and drive back has something to do with it. We’ve been apart for a month today, and that’s too long for people who have some kind of choice in the matter.
I’m also fairly sure that actual sickness has something to do with it. I went to bed last night feeling not-great and woke up feeling even worse: a return of the exact same symptoms I had before starting this trip. That kind of symmetry I can do without.
When you’re physically low, a little sick, a little tired, a little cold, a little hot, whatever small thing you might be going through seems magnified. And when you’re a little homesick and a little sick into the mix? You miss your babies something fierce. Technically, I don’t have to vacate the Fabulous (Temporary) Bachelorette Pad until Monday. But given the circumstances, I’m cutting it short by a couple of days and heading back Saturday.
Wave to me on the I-5.
Oh, and wish me luck on my last day at home before I go home…