Well, well, well... would you look at the time...

I have decided to go all gung ho and wait until it's flight time rather than go to bed late and run the risk of sleeping through my alarm. This is high risk territory with me so running the risk of falling asleep at the wheel is actually less risky when it comes right down to it. The good news is there is only about 1 - 1.5 hours to go and I am almost at the slap happy phase. I should be totally intolerable by the time I get to Logan. iPod? Check. Neck pillow thing? Check. It's heepy time once on that metal flying machine. Making the staff at Logan suffer to ease the pain of my insomniac ways seems a very decent trade.

Oh man, I can't wait to get home. My family was shocked to hear me confirm things like I miss him and the likes. And for once I am not referring to a dog. Figure that one out. I usually show up for holidays solo and enjoy every second without missing anyone. In fact, in past years I have told the male in my life not to stress about joining me. I was always the one stressed when they thought they were going to... ewww. T you're so not included in this mess. So this is all new to me as well as them, so I could share their shocked expressions. It was nice. A bonding moment if you will. And you will. The Mr. F thing is fucking insufferable. What the hell is going on with me? Why is my mind plagued with thoughts of this man. I, the JH, miss my SO? I pine for his attention? And I think the worst/best part is that I am so okay with this. I am soooo okay with missing him and wanting to see him again. It's like being okay with having an infected heart. I'm fine with the oozing and pain produced by his (loving?) bacteria.

Thanksgiving was just lovely. Half the family was here, the other half down the street at my aunts. We connected, we ate, we smiled... I do believe I enjoy the holidays even more when I fly in from a state far away. Everyone is super duper nice and they have to stay that way because I am leaving and could die with our last words being something snarky... and no one wants their last words and looks to be anything but pleasant. Death creates guilt. Besides, we're all great at pretending there is no problem anyway, mostly because there isn't a problem. See how I did that? I'm a pro. But seriously, it was a great time and I am psyched I came to the Bean to celebrate amongst the people I love the most.

I am needing a Jim fix something fierce. I am never doing this again. You know, leave both boys at home and travel far away while acting like I can handle it. Yeah, that. I realize Jim is fine and stable. It's clearly me that has the neurotic separation anxiety issues. Ends up, I'm the freak on a leash. I want to be embarrassed but I'm prone to forgiving myself immediately to avoid any self esteem issues. I'm so over it.

When I get back I am going to cuddle with my dog until he wants nothing to do with me, water my plants until they drown, swing on the swing until I am sick and then enjoy Mr. F until... whatever, you get the point. After that I might just start my Christmas wreath for the front door. I am considering using an ass load of eucalyptus so we can smell my crafty goodness every time we use the front door. I rule.