Always bitter sweet.
Especially after having such a great time in Victoria. Not that I don’t have some amazing people here, not that I don’t love my own bed and not that there aren’t things to do but coming home means I have to get on with things. Taxes. Bleh. Bills. Yuck. Cleaning the house. Barf.
Maybe it should be the other way around. When I go to visit people in Victoria, they should make me do the laundry or weed their garden or do up a budget. They should make me take their pets to the vet or figure out how to fix a touchpad problem or phone the cable guys and wait a half hour until they answer. I shouldn’t be given a free ride. It makes coming home all that much harder.
Now, hmm, what did I leave in the fridge that’s giving off that awful smell?