Would anyone hold it against me if I said I needed a night to recover? It has been a hell of a week. I did as much as I could put together in the week I was in Boulder. I asked the stupid questions, and made the smart decisions. I did things that were helpful, and I made choices that were unpopular. Today was all about getting back to the real world. I flew home, and slept nearly the entire trip. My head is still fuzzy. I feel like I'm floating around in a circle, like the blimp I could see over the Panthers game from the Charlotte airport. There is no more of substance between my ears right now than there was filling that dirigible. I used up everything I had trying to pretend I wasn't terrified while I watched my current income wash away, and my retirement security show vulnerability. Now it is time to reconnect with the ones I left at home. I just want to lie around under a pile of kitties and dogs, and watch the Emmys, and maybe go to bed early. I promise, tomorrow I will be functional again. For now I will accept the cuddling that the kitten and the big boy are most desperate to give, but everyone is lining up for.
God, I'm glad to be home. I just wish the man was here for me to come home to.
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