We rolled ourselves out into the rain, which coincidently was slowing down as I was preparing to leave, and made our way to the car that was to take me to the airport. I was never more ready to go home. Not to say that I didn't have a good time. Four and a half days in California would do anyone some good. Like the animals who had been sent to the Wild Animal Park to recuperate, I felt all my wounds had been healed.
Vacations are like that.
But you can only stay so long in paradise before the illusion starts to fade and the real life you left behind begins to creep into focus. Feeling quite cozy there, I know I am just where I belong.