A girl can think about a lot of stuff when on an impromptu vacation. The first half of my week was taken up almost exclusively by family time: sister in the hospital, keeping in contact with the distant family, keeping up with how Jessie is doing, and keeping tabs on my mom and dad. The second half of the week was a bit more introspective.
With Ciara home, the evidence that she was doing better was measured in the amount of food she was able to eat, and the amount of time spent awake. Her more usual personality came back, with traces of pain sneaking through. She was tempted to be well enough on Saturday to meet up with a good friend and buy some shoes at the Nordstrom 1/2 yearly sale - a sure sign she was feeling better. We've been enjoying Portland's wonderful weather together by sitting at the pool, flower shopping, spending an evening with friends, and getting caught up with one of her favorite shows, Mad Men.
Since moving to Illinois, I've never been good at taking time off. Sitting back and relaxing is hard - my brain keeps moving around from one project to another. Since quitting my job last December, I've been slowly learning how to enjoy the present instead of always planning for what's next. Today. Here I am. Today.
I'm finding myself anticipating again. Dan is flying, right now, back from India, and I can't believe his time there is over. I am so excited to see him that if I think about it too much, I get unreasonable ideas popping up in my head to leave Juneau early and get this next part of Us started that much sooner. My reason usually returns after a few minutes, and I get re-resolved to finish the season, and wait patiently for September 27th (the last ship day) to arrive. A girl can only write "I miss you" so much. I'm feeling honest, but unoriginal.
I leave Portland on Tuesday morning, and I'm sad about that. There is no time warp button I can push to make these next two months go a bit faster. I'll go back to hoping for long hours, not just for the overtime, but for something to take up my schedule in such a way that I forget what day it is, and do nothing but drive, run, eat, and sleep.