It's odd leaving one home to go back to another. How many homes can one person have? It's taxing to weep and bid goodbye to one home, then in a matter of hours greet the other with a grin and feelings of complacency.
My last few days in Missouri sped past like the last few grains of sand in an hourglass. Once I hit Monday and people started really saying goodbye, that was it. I spent Tuesday hugging trees (literally) and staring at the greenery around me like I might never seen a plant again. I spent most of Wednesday cuddling my dog and trying not to cry at the thought of leaving.
It was mostly a quiet car ride to the airport, my mother and I just enjoying each other's company, until we started singing "Seven Bridges Road". It was stuck in my head, and it seemed appropriate. At least, much more appropriate than "Hooked On A Feeling", which was stuck in my head the day before.
Just for the record, I love the Kansas City International Airport. It's so easy to navigate. Other airports just don't make any sense.
Going through security, I somehow managed to avoid going through a body scanner. They pointed me toward the metal detector instead. I would call those three minutes of my life both a win and a narrow squeak. I flew to Phoenix via Minneapolis, so I had one incredibly short flight followed by one incredibly long one, which felt even longer because my mind wouldn't shut up and let me get to sleep. Crimanitley! I need Swedish Fish.
My flight got in close to midnight, so my poor dad only got four hours of sleep before he had to go to work this morning. I've spent the day bingeing on unlimited internet and enjoying the air conditioning and arid climate.
Listening to: "Suerte" by Shakira
Reading: Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson