What is it about climbing the steps to your house that brings comfort like nothing else?
I've been gone for almost a week, and what a crazy couple weeks its been. Multiple visitors, a new job and gearing up for a ladies trip to Vegas have left me feeling so grateful for my full life, but also a bit worn out.
Last night I finally got home after working a full day while feeling sick from no sleep the night before because of massive flight delays. As soon as that key hit the door, none of it mattered- even getting robbed of my window seat by a guy who didn't even open the shade to enjoy the view. All that mattered was my favorite mug for tea was clean. The bed was unmade, but it was there waiting for me to slither into it. I think it was just as comfy as a made bed.
I'm less than glamorous this morning while I nurse plugged up ears, a weird sunburn on the backs of my legs and try to bring myself back to working order. The house is chilly, a little messy, but oh so quiet.
There's no where else I'd rather be. I may even have to return to my hermit-y ways, at least for a few days. Stay tuned for more on Vegas.
What's your favorite thing about home?