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1�0�1�0�1�0�1�0�0�1 2003-01-16, 10:38 a.m.

You can't go home again


Homesickness always sneaks up on me. Usually I'm going about my business, doing work or reading something on the Internet, and suddenly a snippet of some scene flashes across my mind — some street in my hometown, or the creekside path where I walk my dogs, or some little downtown shop I haven't been into since I was 14 — and next thing I know, I'm prowling around on Travelocity looking for cheap tickets to fly to Ohio.

And they are cheap right now. $243 to fly to Columbus from SFO.

I almost just let it slip in an email to my mother that I was considering coming home in March or April for a weekend, but I thought better of it at the last minute. Because when I don't in fact make it home, I'll hear about it for the next year, like I did about Christmas. I'm finally learning.

A. is going to New York for a week in early March, and he wants me to fly out and meet him. Don't know if that's going to work from a work-time-off standpoint (seeing as how I'm still on vacation probation and also because I'm taking two weeks off in June to get hitched). But God, I hate it when he leaves for that long. To make it worse, I might be gone most of the week the week before he leaves, in Vegas for four days for the Big Announcement (the top-secret project I've been working on since I started here). Two weeks without A. I don't actually think I've been without him for that long since we started dating. Just thinking about it makes me depressed.

Side note: My coworker, the one who has almost the same name as mine, rocks.



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