I’m sitting here at 3:30 pm local time, having landed this morning around 7, and I’m struggling to stay awake. Other things I’m struggling to do: not scream at my children every time they whine (which is, jet lag considered, OFTEN); not shiver (68 degrees Fahrenheit/whatever that is in Celsius is COLD compared to what I just came from); not feel overwhelmed by the glut of memories churned out over the past couple of weeks (and the depressive episode that is sure to follow them, and accompany my imminent adjustment period).

So what I’m going to do is give myself a break. A brief beat, to just be, and to think through all that’s happened over the last fortnight: countless conversations, endless wine, too many airport trips, myriad familiar faces parading gloriously through my frame of vision, one speech delivered without diarrhoea or other incident, a Broadway musical that brought me to sobs and haunts me in the best way ever since, a run around Central Park with The Sis, an MRI, rooftops and laughter, a book idea growing into a Real Thing and (even better) friendship to go along with the partnership, a hotel night with dear friends, so many dinners, communion and community. And something tells me I haven’t begun to tap into all that it means. Or remember the half of it.

Sartre said that hell is other people. After three days in a row of traveling (and a lifetime of other evidences), I’d have to agree. Then again, Sartre didn’t know my people. So it turns out he’s only partially correct. All due respect. So I’m going to sit for a few days with the memories of my people, American edition, and let it all take root. Also, I’m going to sleep. And–maybe most beautifully, and most raw, and most challenging, I’m going to sit with my main people–my man and boys–and get back into our life here. After a tough morning (for the love of God STOP WHINING, SMALL PEOPLE), I just spent an hour on the beach–our beach–with The Kid and Little Brother and hand to God, it was like, for that sixty minutes, all the exhaustion and frustration and irritation melted away and we just got to be with each other. We just got to be.

So I’m going to go do more of that. That, and the sleep. And then I’ll come back and word-vomit all over your asses.