If I say that travel, and how it takes me out of my routines, is exhausting, it can go two ways:
- If I try to be flexible, but in fact I'm _not_ flexible, then that makes me rigid. Doesn't sound particularly good, does it?
- In everyday life, I find routines to be of great support to my mental health, and when that gets upended by travel, while I can cope, it is as mentally exhausting as the literal suitcase-carrying part of travel is physically exhausting. That doesn't sound as bad, does it?
I don't know. I don't have a stunning, tie-it-all-together conclusion here. I'm just trying to make sense of why the last two weeks knocked me down as much as they did. I haven't done much this weekend*, and it's has been wonderful.
*Kitten photos to come, though, I did do that much!
Mind you, last night's Bruins game just had to go into overtime, didn't it? And then a second overtime? And finish shortly after midnight? I could have used a few more hours of sleep, but oh well. (They lost, too.) I can go to bed early tonight; I really don't care who wins the San Jose/Colorado game, so I can turn it off any time, and I will, too.
To end on a lighter note, I had to grab a photo of the card on some flowers that Grandma got, from her brother's family. The family name is Pedersen, not Pederson, and when you look at this, you can hear someone spelling it out carefully, can't you? "P-e-d-e-r (pause) s-e-n"