I left Sydney in a rush. Last minute packing, frantic calls to my front desk from the train, long harried queues at the airport and an even longer, terribly agonising flight with 7.5 hours worth of spoilt 2 and 4 year olds crying. I don’t understand the horrid mother making no efforts to shut her children up while the rest of us in economy class grit our teeth in an effort not to knock them all out cold. Seriously, no one appreciates screaming wailing kids that go on from takeoff to landing. WTF.
It is strange being back. Even stranger that until today I wish I didn’t have to make this trip and leave what I now know as home just when I’ve started getting used to my new routine. But I miss the fam. Tres confusing. It’s different this time. Maybe because of the permanence of it. Maybe because I really dig the new place. Maybe because things change too often and sometimes.. not at all. Anyway it’s good to be back.
Today I jumped into my car for the first time in eight months. It feels like I’ve never left.
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