I finally got back to Georgia from Orlando on Friday night. Even after a month and a half in Orlando and being very ready to leave, it still ended kind of abruptly. It would’ve even been nice to have one more day there as a non-working guest, instead of just one minute being at Epcot and then the next being at the decidedly non-magical Orlando airport.
For the past week or so, I’ve had “Sloop John B” going through my head non-stop from the moment I wake up. And I’m sure that as soon as I get back to San Francisco, it’ll seem like Georgia went by in a blur, and I’ll go back to missing my family, and wishing that I could help out more around here.
But dammit, I want to go home.
It’s been over two months now; I think I’m entitled to sleep in my own bed. I always imagined I’d make a great World Traveler, but I think to do that, you have to be able to stay away from home for more than a few weeks without panicking.
I’m headed back to SF this Sunday. Technically, this would be a perfect opportunity to fulfill my plan to drive cross country — I had a one-way ticket out here, no job waiting for me back home, and some extra cash from having other people pay for my meals for the past two months. But driving from Atlanta to SF would take at least a week to do it right, and as I’ve mentioned, I want to go home.