I flew back home Wednesday and my connecting flight was delightfully delayed by 2.5 hours. Whoo-hoo! I called my mom to let her know and she suggested I talk to the airline to see if they'd trade me a free ticket for letting myself get bumped. She and my dad used to do this all the time, and free tickets are certainly cool. However, at that point, the desire to sleep in my own bed that night far outweighed my desire for free stuff. Do I regret my decision? Absolutely not. Getting home, even if it was after 11:00 p.m. that night, was bliss.
No idiot boys. No brother's girlfriend. No small hotel suite. No any of that. Just me, my dog, and an empty house. Ahhhhh...
The past two days I've mostly been a slacker, bumming around the house and soaking up the solitude. I did venture out for a grocery run Thursday morning, 'cause I'd cleared out my fridge pre-trip and had no grub. Yesterday I got bolder and went to the gym (I ended up blowing off my "on the road" workout, shame on me) and picked up the latest draft of my thesis intro with comments from one of my committee memembers. "Almost there," she wrote, which really means "Not ready yet," and made me sad. But, driving to campus in my own car counterbalanced it - even though my car is a boring 2002 Chevy, it totally beats my brother's "cooler" 1972 El Camino because it has such amazing features as air conditioning and the ability to start on the first time you turn the key.
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