I drove 16 hours from Indiana to Texas because the thought of spending another night in a bed that wasn’t mine was more than my brain was able to comprehend. Of all the things I am not good at, I would rate traveling up there with cooking and grammar and NoPoBloHo.
Two things that I can always be sure of when I travel is that I will be unable to poop the entire time I’m gone and that when I return home, I will find that my dear husband will have reorganized the already organized things in the house. And while I am so grateful I have a loving husband who alphabetizes the refrigerator by food group, there are some days I wish he would just hunt antelope like other husbands do while their wives are away.
Nonetheless, sleeping in my own bed, next to my very disseminating and very handsome husband, made for a wonderful night of sleep last night.