We've been home for more than four months. Straight. I think I said it somewhere, but I can't find it now, but when we got back from our last trip in the beginning of December, I said I wouldn't travel again until after my old cat had passed away. Maybe I thought she'd be gone by now. Maybe I didn't know what I was getting myself into. Either way, I'm getting itchy feet, wanderlust, whatever you want to call it. We're not usually home for spans this long. I'm used to being on the move a lot more.
You'd think it was the only trip we'd ever gone on was the one we took to San Antonio in December. I've been thinking about it all the time – reviewing it, reliving it, contemplating going back. Constantly.
I've also had our trips to Prague and my solo trip to Paris high on my mind.
I'm thinking about travel a lot.
Here's what's on the docket later this year.
That's it. Seems thin. I'm not used to being this grounded. I'm not used to being home this much. I don't know if I can adjust.
I'm hopeful that we'll have some opportunities come up. Also, that we'll find a good cat sitter or someone who wants to come and live in our house for short periods of time.