This Time I Mean It

I know that I say this every time I return from being away, but this time I really mean it. I felt it as soon as I walked in the door: it has NEVER felt so good to be home. One can only honeymoon for so long. Actually I should rephrase that. I can only honeymoon for so long. Plus, I love the home that greeted me, and that makes a load of difference. It felt so good to walk into the apartment, see my plant (which yes, I definitely should have pruned before we left. OOPS), look through the mail, turn on my computer, sit down at my desk, read my blogs (at warp speed. a more thorough read will undoubtedly follow tomorrow), etc. It just feels right to be here. I love it.

In other thrilling news, I've decided that pure bliss is putting on clean pajamas after living out of a suitcase for three weeks. I might never take them off. Crisp, laundry-scented clothing on my skin....MMMMMM. This must be what heaven feels like.

We pick up the pupple (that's what Preston and I call her. We are gigantic losers. Or at least total suckers for baby-talking Callie) tomorrow afternoon and while I'm OH SO EXCITED to see her and pet her and hug her and love her, there's a tiny knot in the bottom of my stomach that keeps pulling at my heart and nagging at my brain, saying, "What if she doesn't remember me?" I can think of few rejections that would be more crushing. So I'm hoping that doesn't happen. Or there might be a chain of dark and gloomy posts.

Considering it's 5:00 in the morning London time, I feel that I should be more exhausted than I am at the moment. I think I'm still just running on adrenaline. But since we DO have to get up in the morning to go get the pup, I suppose I should go climb into OUR OWN BED (this is about as thrilling as the clean pajamas) and will myself to sleep. I have a sneaky feeling, though, that the minute my head hits MY VERY OWN PILLOW I will be out like a light. And as soon as Preston finishes reading through baseball scores (or whatever he's reading at the moment. We're both sitting at our desks in silence, mesmerized by the gloriousness of having our own computers), I have a feeling he'll also be out like a light, thus ending the last day (and post) of the honeymoon.