...I was getting a refill of hideous airline coffee from a flight attendant while en route to Florida.
At this hour four days ago, I was on a return flight, roughly somewhere above the state of Arizona.
So what has changed? Nothing.
When I arrived home -- for once, my friend D. was on time to pick me up at the airport -- I did a few things and then took a nap. A 15-hour nap. Somehow, my body clock has gotten dreadfully out of sync with the world; I go to bed at 10:00, wake up at 4:00 am. This is not jet lag, but is more like some time shift that began before I left on my last trip.
As usual, life goes on as if I'd never left. I've written 1.5 articles this week, and am about to leave to supervise photography and take notes on another. I have a week to finish the .5 of a story and one more. If I really buckle down, I should get another done as well, but I know myself well enough to not promise that will happen.
Mainly, I'm rattling around in this empty place, and am not happy about it. Others I know are already talking about Thanksgiving and -- ridiculously -- Christmas. They will be mere days for me; worse than normal days because there will be no mail and too many closed stores.
Take no notice of me. I get cranky when the daylight hours get short.
Oh, yes. I forgot. Monday is the day set aside to "celebrate" Armistice Day/Veteran's Day, which is really Sunday.
Another work day here.
On occasion, I enjoy some truly wonderful times. But oh, how I pay for them in between.
15 hours ago