Coming Home

Always bitter sweet.

Especially after having such a great time in Victoria.  Not that I don’t have some amazing people here, not that I don’t love my own bed and not that there aren’t things to do but coming home means I have to get on with things.  Taxes.  Bleh.  Bills.  Yuck.  Cleaning the house.  Barf.

Maybe it should be the other way around.  When I go to visit people in Victoria, they should make me do the laundry or weed their garden or do up a budget.  They should make me take their pets to the vet or figure out how to fix a touchpad problem or phone the cable guys and wait a half hour until they answer.   I shouldn’t be given a free ride.  It makes coming home all that much harder.

Now, hmm, what did I leave in the fridge that’s giving off that awful smell?


0 Replies to “Coming Home”

  1. Your wish is my command! Next time you visit there will be two weeks worth of laundry waiting for you, the dogs will need to be bathed (haha! good luck!), the lawn will certainly need mowing (with a large knife since we don’t have a lawnmower), and Aven will need you to dye her hair red again. And we respectfully request bbq hamburgers for dinner. 🙂

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