![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivkaMy last two days in Iowa City were pretty ignominous - I had ten subjects scheduled, and four of them showed up. I have no idea why that happened, although the weather had certainly turned ugly.
So Friday afternoon, instead of having one more subject scheduled for the late afternoon plus loads of data entry to do, I found myself with very little to do at all. Impulsively, I dashed back to the guest house, packed in about twenty minutes, loaded up my car, and headed east. It felt so good to be on my way home that I didn't care about anything else.
It was a long trip. I intended to stop in Indianapolis Friday night, but when I reached it around 10:30pm I discovered that some kind of college football event had jacked motel prices up to $75 a night. Not that the motels had turned off their big neon visible-from-the-highway signs that said "$29.00," mind you. I had to exit, stop, go in, and inquire. Each time. I wound up finding a place to sleep another hour down the road, in a dilapidated motel that only had smoking rooms left. Then I woke up at 3am to be violently sick. The worst part of it all was knowing that no matter how bad I felt the next day, I'd still have to drive another 500 miles... or shell out $50 to spend another night in that depressing run-down motel, sick and alone.
Fortunately, I woke up weak and queasy but not actually sick. I made it the rest of the way home on weak tea, crackers, lots of water, and a reasonably absorbing but not intellectually demanding book on tape. And then I was home.
It feels so good to be home, I can barely stand it. I can barely pry myself away from physical contact with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
curiousangel - nothing dramatic, because I'm still feeling kind of weak, but lots of holding and stroking and tiny little kisses. Going to sleep together and waking up together... damn, I missed that.
This afternoon, I'll seewcg. It's good to be home.
So Friday afternoon, instead of having one more subject scheduled for the late afternoon plus loads of data entry to do, I found myself with very little to do at all. Impulsively, I dashed back to the guest house, packed in about twenty minutes, loaded up my car, and headed east. It felt so good to be on my way home that I didn't care about anything else.
It was a long trip. I intended to stop in Indianapolis Friday night, but when I reached it around 10:30pm I discovered that some kind of college football event had jacked motel prices up to $75 a night. Not that the motels had turned off their big neon visible-from-the-highway signs that said "$29.00," mind you. I had to exit, stop, go in, and inquire. Each time. I wound up finding a place to sleep another hour down the road, in a dilapidated motel that only had smoking rooms left. Then I woke up at 3am to be violently sick. The worst part of it all was knowing that no matter how bad I felt the next day, I'd still have to drive another 500 miles... or shell out $50 to spend another night in that depressing run-down motel, sick and alone.
Fortunately, I woke up weak and queasy but not actually sick. I made it the rest of the way home on weak tea, crackers, lots of water, and a reasonably absorbing but not intellectually demanding book on tape. And then I was home.
It feels so good to be home, I can barely stand it. I can barely pry myself away from physical contact with
curiousangel - nothing dramatic, because I'm still feeling kind of weak, but lots of holding and stroking and tiny little kisses. Going to sleep together and waking up together... damn, I missed that.This afternoon, I'll see
wcg. It's good to be home.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2002-10-06 10:12 am (UTC)I'm glad you're home, too, even if you are technically further away from me now ...
-J