I don't know if I've ever written this blog, but we got home EARLY this morning (think 4am) and all day I have been struck by the little things I feel and experience that are a direct result of ending a tour. Short or long, these things seems to be universal to my experience coming back from at least a couple of weeks away.
-Where is my girlfriend and where is my brother? People = home for me
-For some reason, I always wake up way earlier than I want and I can't go back to sleep. Major bummer
-My legs hurt. Like "did I just run five miles in my sleep?" hurt
-I don't want to go ANYWHERE. I even passed on ordering a pizza.
-I need to go EVERYWHERE. There are so many "home" things to do that they all seem urgent
-There are always 1-3 tour errands left to run when you get home: it never ends when you walk in the door. That's kind of a bummer sometimes
-My right thumb hurts because I've been using a trackpad for two weeks, but not a real mouse.
-Sometime around dinner it occurs to me that the "to do" list hasn't been eliminated, the title at the top has just switched to a different project.
-I want to read everything I didn't get to read while I was gone. That currently encompasses a book on the Theory of Randomness, a book about CoDependence (wow, did I never understand what exactly that is), and a biography on Churchill.
-The quieter the house is, the better
-No offense to my artist friends, but I'm listening to music by someone I haven't seen face-to-face in the last 30 days. It's kind of an ears/mind reset
-I find myself avoiding any opportunity for anyone to ask anything of me. I need to not be needed for a little while.
-As the day winds down, I feel tired but do not want to go to sleep. I want to keep enjoying the quiet and being home.
-My bed is the best bed in the world. I like the Hilton bed on the road, but I could market the Josh-bed. It's that great.
So there it is - my experience of coming home.