A fair amount of this past trip home was spent wondering what I am doing with my life. I ask myself this question frequently. The first week of my vacation was luxurious - I read and watched TV and generally spent my time rediscovering what it's like to live with little stress and a full night's sleep. Most mornings, I would get up before or around seven. Most nights, I was in bed before or around ten. It's amazing to spend an entire day with sufficient energy. It made me realize that, if given the choice, I am an early riser and that my lifestyle here is not conducive to getting enough sleep. Something needs to change. Sleep is an awesome natural force.
In some ways, I was dreading the return to Paris. I can honestly look around at my life right now and say I'm overwhelmed. It was so nice to not have to run around all day, to not have my usual worries plaguing me. Taking myself out of my everyday life for a few weeks was revealing: I can live better than this.
However, I did want to come back. I missed The Boy, of course, and I have things here I am excited about. Although I loved spending time with my parents, there are small inconveniences - namely that I'm not in my own home and that my mom kept putting out bowls of readily available chocolates.
With mixed emotions, I went to the Detroit airport yesterday morning, saying hurried goodbyes to my parents and dog. At check-in, the woman told me that my flight would be delayed, and that I woud most likely miss my connection in Chicago. I envisioned a repeat experience of my westbound flight two weeks prior, and told myself to remain calm. The worst case scenario would have me stuck in London overnight -- it would be a pain, but there are worse things in life.
I was told to just wait until I got to Chicago to make arrangements. My flight out of Detroit was delayed almost an hour, and the plane landed at almost 6.00 pm exactly. My flight to Paris was to leave at 6.05. The nice man sitting next to me told me he would ask the woman at the gate to call the other (Paris-bound) gate to let them know I was running to the flight. I think he saved me -- I showed up and asked if I could still board, and the flight attendant said, "Yes! Are you Lee?" When I said yes, she exclaimed, "Nice hussle!"
So I made it, and my luggage didn't. This was absolutely to most ideal situation, as my luggage was too heavy and bulky for me to consider riding home on the trains with it. I was going to have to fork over the 50 euros for a cab, and that was sort of killing me inside. Instead, my bags will be delivered to my apartment tomorrow, and I rode the train home free (using up my last day of my Carte Imagine'R) of charge and free of baggage.
Walking into my house, I took note: yes, The Boy has not exactly been tidy in my absence. But overall, the place was cozy and I was happy to come home. The Boy was still sleeping, so I snuggled into bed and he made a face that said, "What IS that?" in his sleep. Then he mumbled something, put his arm around me, and said, "La Frontera..." quietly, before shooting up in bed and saying, "LA FRONTERA!" when he realized what was happening.
Then I passed out for six hours.
I'm taking the entire journey as a metaphor. I was a little on edge before the trip. The heavy bags, the close connection at Chicago, the general fears about coming back to my crazed schedule here. But I was oddly zen from the moment I checked in, and remained so until I wiggled my way into my bed this morning. I'm going to do my best to remain in this state - to get enough sleep and to not rush myself all the time. If I have to cut back on something, I'm going to do it with as little guilt as possible. During this trip, I have realized that I need to slow down, and damnit, I'm gonna try.
As evidence of my new attempts at peaceful living, I am spending New Year's ordering food in. We may drink a bottle of wine, and we may not. I am already in my pajamas, it is not yet nine at night. I don't feel like talking to anybody or going out... and I won't. Just me and The Boy, with one of us struggling to make it to midnight awake. Hey, maybe it means I'll get up at seven tomorrow, jet-lag free...
Happy New Year's to everyone!
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