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Eighteen hours of flight, six hours in LAX, and a run through Minnesota airport to reach my first flight, which resulted in me running nineteen gates in socks, holding my Chucks, belt, jacket and bag.

I just slept for fourteen hours, straight.

Already, I don't want to be back. Students are calling, the weather is cold, there are bills, the country is politically mismanaged, and I have half a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter and some water and Pepsi Max in the fridge. The beautiful bubble world I existed in for a week with N is, sadly, over. Sure, I return with a bunch of books (the Twin Cities has some really fine bookstores) and a bunch of ideas for stories but, you know, if I were being truthful, I'd like to disappear into my bubble world, where my only communication with the world would be through the postcards that I sent to T.

Ah well.

Life is what you make it, right?


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Jul. 18th, 2011 10:41 pm (UTC)
Just tell me the bread wasn't there when you left.
Jul. 18th, 2011 11:02 pm (UTC)
nah. neither was the water, oddly enough.
Jul. 19th, 2011 01:28 pm (UTC)
If it makes you feel any better, it's currently a bazillion degrees over here (even in Minnesota!) and after a while you'd realise that American politics is even more screwed up than over there so... Can't help you with the food though.
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