I will freely admit that I am a creature of habit. A homebody, a Cancer, a don't-rock-the-boat, status quo kind of girl. So these trips throw me entirely out of whack. I love to go, to get back to New York. It's like visiting the old me, tasting what my life would have been like if we'd stayed. But as the days go by (and this past trip was a long one), I start to itch for my real life, my current one, with its precise routines and familiar comforts.
Now that I'm home, my first task is to restore those routines, that order. My first day back, I had an awful, nauseating headache, along with a pile of urgent work that couldn't wait another day. And not being able to stop and unpack, reorganize, dig through the towering stack of mail, reply to any but the most essential emails -- was almost physically painful.
Today I'm feeling better. My stomach is back to normal, my suitcase is empty and I've done four loads of laundry. My to-do list still unspools behind me a mile long (do not remind me how many shopping days are left until Christmas, I beg you) but just being home is, for now, enough.