Welcome Home!

Returning from vacation is, of course, always difficult. Am I the only one who wants to move to wherever it is I am vacationing? Probably not. Fortunately, I've grown enough to realize that living and working wherever I am vacationing will NEVER be like vacationing there - that's why it's VACATION!

Regardless, descending back to my mortal life is a bitch. This time, I found myself dragging it out as much s possible. Because we flew out of an airport an hour and a half away from home, I had a little extra time after landing to extend that vacation...so I did.

After we picked up our van, I took the kids out to lunch...at a sit-down restaurant...that is notorious for being slow to serve...and I let them play checkers...and finish their game before we left.

What can I say? As long as I was on vacation, I felt like I was in a bubble...of happiness. As long as I didn't have to speak or interact with my STBX, life was normal, and I felt at ease. It is only during these periods that I realize the shit I carry around. And yes, it is a million times better than when I actually lived with him, but still there is that fucking residual fear of what the hell he is going to say next or what fucking mind game am I going to have to field or dodge next. Exhausting.

So I put myself on the road during exactly the five o'clock rush hour and drove home slowly...enjoying...and dreading.