Before too much more time passes, I suppose I ought to say something about my big trip back the America for Christmas and stuff. It was my first time back in over a year, and in the weeks leading up to the trip I realized how nervous I was getting about it. When I came to England I didn’t know if I would stay or not, but I knew I was trying to leave rather a lot behind. (Like, many years of bad decisions.) During this last trip, though, I tried to squeeze in as much as I could of the things I’ve missed, while hoping to avoid the stuff I haven’t.
I had only limited success. I wasn’t able to see or talk to a lot of people I care about, but I still had three weeks of quality time with many of the key players. I ate delicious food for a longer, more consistent stretch than since I came to England, but I was also kind of full and uncomfortable because of it a lot of the time. I couldn’t avoid everything that bugs me about America, but I still had a swell time by just enjoying it like a visitor.
And I was dog tired most of the time, due in no small part to a busy schedule, three weeks of sleeping on couches, and not much time to myself for recharging. So overall: great, but exhausting.
And that’s probably the shallowest, least informative description of what was, all things considered, a really big deal for me — realizing that I feel more at home where I am now than I did there, but also realizing that I’m a lot lonelier here than I was there. It’s a bit of a dilemma, frankly.
But here I am. I’ve done a pretty shoddy job with my past, but we’ll see what the future holds. I’ll just keep plugging away.