I left Puerto Rico today. Or yesterday. Or whatever day it is/was. My body is totally confused by the fact that it is noon right now and not 6 am. I'll write about the trip itself tomorrow or this weekend. In the meantime, here's some whining for you:
This whole living in Spain thing is fine. It can be exciting and interesting. My job is great. I actually like it, except for the part where I live in a different country than my husband. And that part is awful. And really, really not fair. I know I chose this path and I know I chose this career and I know I am lucky to have a job at all, let alone the job I have in the place I have it. That said, I would really like to live in the same place as Pete. Coming back was much, much harder than I anticipated. I know it will be better once I get back to work and back in the swing of things. I already have plans for tonight to catch up with my friends. But in the meantime (and probably at other times) it's just awful. I've been trying not to cry in public because I hate doing that. Especially when I'm by myself. On a plane. I think it takes away from my savvy traveler persona that I try to project. :)
Travel is always stressful. I love travel, but I don't love flying. I hate turbulence. I hate being herded onto planes with a billion other people. I hate terrible airport food (and even worse airplane food). I actually love take off and landing, though. I love the idea of going somewhere and getting there. I do love the quiet time that being on a plane gives me, and it shows me that I don't really hate being alone (when I'm not totally alone).
There's a shift that happens when I'm suddenly on my own. It used to happen when I traveled for work, and I sort of liked it. I was independent and able to be successful getting myself from one place to another. I've now flown across the ocean without a travel companion about a dozen times. I've always gotten where I needed to be, even if that involved a series of planes, trains, busses, and cars that would sometimes make me crazy. But I don't mind traveling on my own. I just like it more when the end result is NOT me being on my own. I like it when the result is visiting people I love or going back home (stay tuned for musings on "home). Today the result is being on my own without the best companion there is for 33 days (not that I'm counting). Then, I'll see him for a week again and be back here until November. Hopefully, he can come in the interim, so I won't be here for three and a half months without interruption. If he can't, I'm just going to have to put myself to the task of finding cheap European travel, so I at least have something fun to look forward to.
As for now, I'm trying to remind myself how much better it gets ... and how much easier it will be this time than when I arrived in April. And I'm counting down those 33 days.
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