Still sick. At least I feel a different sort of sick every day, on my way to recovery. Bronchial infections are an adventure, and until today I felt much better than I sounded. I know it's clearing up, but I feel like I've been attacked by a truck which sits idling on my forehead, in between my eyes with its heavy load resting on my chest. I think I'm becoming addicted to Nyquil and am a little bit concerned about the results of my weeklong medicine binge as I head back to the Right Coast this week to be with my families.

I generally don't sleep well in other people's houses, especially when noise and light levels are different than what I am used to. I always make a point to pack my earplugs, sleeping pills and satin blindfold (I know...I'm such a priss) yet I still get an attack of anxiety when I lay my head down on an unfamiliar pillow with unfamiliar smells and sounds. Even in my old bedroom at my parent's house I lay awake and recall the memories that the scent of the room recalls from my subconscious. Parts of me are still 17 and living there.

Every so often I catch myself referring to Virginia as "home", and it has become an odd feeling. Chicago is my true home now, my grown up life with my new family, my safe haven and comfort central. I feel wrong calling anywhere else "home", yet I can't find a better word for where I grew up and where my family still lives. I had barely moved out before my old bedroom became something unfamiliar and completely not mine, and now everything has changed, from the furnishings to the pets. But there is still that comfort of being in my daddy's house. I guess this is just part of growing up and moving on, dealing with the emotional transition between two places.

We have a busy week ahead: Work tomorrow morning, then fly to VA in the afternoon. Tomorrow is my mother-in-law's birthday so we stay with them, Thursday is my father's so we head to his house, Friday is my little brother's high school graduation (I'm so proud!), Saturday we see my mom's new home and it is my husband's grandmother's birthday and a party later on at my dad's house. There are about a million reasons to celebrate with my family on Saturday, aside from the above mentioned occasions, my brother-in-law's birthday and his wedding anniversary with my step-sister (I guess that would make him my step-brother-in-law), early father's day, hub's and my visit, etc. Sunday is back to the in-law's to spend with the grandma. We fly back at the crack of dawn Monday morning, and immediately head back to work. Thank goodness for drug-induced sleep and wakefulness, I say. Hurrah for Nyquil and coffee.

Daddy, I'm coming home.