Where my head is.

We got back from Philly around 8 o'clock last night, but my head is still somewhere between there and here. It was hard leaving the apartment this morning; Mike is on February vacation and was sleeping so soundly and adorably while I got ready.

I'm playing hooky from writing group tonight so I can clean. It's always a little overwhelming returning from a weekend away to an apartment that's been lived in while you were gone: trash that needs to be taken out, floors that need to be swept and mopped, dishes that need to be washed.

I'm in a weird, funky, emotional mood today, and I'm at a loss as to why. The sun has been rising earlier and setting later, which I'm hoping will help turn my mood around. Tonight I want to use up my alone time for sewing, Portlandia, writing, and making the other half of my crocheted socks. My brother-in-law says I'm a granny in a 25-year-old's body, which I suppose is true.