homecoming, number whichever

I'm trying to go to sleep, but sleep eludes me. My schedule has been all messed up over vacation. I slept for 12 hours a night, plus a nap most days. Then three hours the night before we left. I let Dad drive most of that trip.

My mind is racing, and I don't know where to direct it. I want to direct it to calm down, to go to sleep, because it's bedtime and we can do that right now. It disagrees. I went to sleep around 11:00 last night and woke up about 9:30 this morning, the last time. I am developing new motor patterns for this keyboard. It's smaller than most of the ones I have used, and some of the hotkeys/key combinations are different. Most of them are. There are fewer keys.

I need something I can tell to stop default capitalizing. I might not want capital letters right now.

I try to go to sleep and I start thinking about C, and work, and my students, and women…. Lately I've been thinking about more of C's stories and wondering how much was true. Some of them were plausible. The problem was that all of them were plausible, for far too long.

I'm sure there was plenty to process from vacation. I don't know that I'll want to take a trip like that again. It was kind of….stressful. And could have been at least 2 days shorter than it was. I worry sometimes that because my parents were, or always seemed to be, looking for ways to spend more time with their families on vacation, that they are hurt when I don't. or that they are hurt just because they're my parents and they love me.

I really do need to be here. I need to be on my own. Pittsburgh is where I've found home. I was so excited to come home today. My neighbor Sam said he heard me when I got in saying something about it, don't know if I was talking to the cats or the door or what. The best part about leaving Pittsburgh really is coming back. I drove all the way around the city today, even though I didn't have to. I wanted to see it, to see Downtown gleaming in the sunset from every angle. I came through right after the Pirates game started, so traffic was moving at mostly fun paces. I went around a curve over the North Shore and the smell of hotdogs filled my car. I turned my head and saw the boats in the river, hoping to catch a ball that got hit out of the park. The city smelled like baseball, and I loved it like new again.

I miss you, small but loyal blog circle. I've been quite out of the habit. Hopefully I'll have more for you soon, given the improved computer situation. I'm enjoying this little thing so far. I transcribed some voice notes I'd recorded into my phone a while back, so maybe some of that will turn into writing, and some scraps might make their way here. Remember that every time I say I should write about something, I don't.

I am rediscovering myself, and I have changed. It will be necessary for my sanity that I continue to sort out my thoughts this way.

On another note, at B's recommendation I am reading On the Move, Oliver Sacks's autobiography. I haven't finished it yet, and I am thoroughly enjoying it so far.