I'm having issues.
It was only 525 miles round trip, but the air was different and the company was different and I was, for a day or two, different, too.
Re-entry is jarring.
I have dozens of emails; I'm ignoring them all. The refrigerator is empty; I really don't care. I walked around the backyard, watering and deadheading and reorganizing networks of vines, but the effort was desultory at best.
I read Langston Hughes essays and tried to ignore the tv; I hadn't heard one all weekend. I avoided all electronics, with one exception. The Cubbies were invited into my cocoon, via phone apps.
Tomorrow is a full day, and the week to follow even fuller. Tonight, I'm going to pretend that I'm still on vacation.
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