Now commences the usual trip recovery program.
The house is full of cat hair. There is little to eat, and it’s hard to be motivated to cook when you struggle to work and back in a fog of tiredness.
The suitcases spill out their guts of cords and art supplies and clean and dirty clothing all over the living room, since there really isn’t room for them upstairs. It gets worse until one day you empty them and stack them by the back door. We’re nearly there — I’ve been doing laundry.
We’re just holding it together until the weekend when we can vacuum and clean up, although god knows we will not feel like doing it then, either.
The kitchen is clean. That helps. And there is plenty of coffee.
There is also something wrong with my leg, but I decided to just take motrin and ignore it, and tomorrow I’m going to the gym. That should fix it. In fact, it feels better already.