Time Flies...

I've always been the type of person that loves to travel, but once gone from my surroundings, I tend to want to go back home after about 3 or 4 days. There used to be Shelby that I would miss, but now there isn't anybody that's going to jump up on my leg when I walk through the door. My Dad probably doesn't even know I left.. he probably thinks I've been in my room for ten days. And it's not like I always returned to some glamorous life either. Still, I am a creature of habit. I am at the Panera Bread... and I just got done eating the same exact lunch I have had the last 5 days.

Having said that, this trip has been very different. I think it's the only time I have ever relaxed in my life, and not given myself a guilt trip over it. I'm not ready to come home. Not that I'm going to have angst over it, but if I weren't living with my Dad right now, I would consider moving here, as I always have in the past. Despite being hot, people are more active here. There's nothing like running next to the beach to get your day started and everything is so beautiful. Even the street bums look great with a tan standing in front of a palm tree.

The grass may not be any greener here, but at least it's shaded by palm trees and blown by the ocean wind. I dread winter. I leave tomorrow, and I'm not happy about it... at all.