Maybe it doesn't cure all

I just flew in from Michigan.. and boy are my arms.. yeah, please stop me cuz it's not even funny. I'd like to think I'm a pretty funny gal, too, but I'm in no mood to laugh. I'm not in much of a mood for anything.

I had a great trip home as they all are. I wish I could spend more time with family and friends, but there's never enough of me and there's never enough time. Not enough time to stay out all night boozin.. and not enough time to spend with my nephew.

This was probably the hardest trip. I'm not sure why, but I've never felt so depressed upon returning from a trip home. I have little motivation to do my work-work, my school work... I'm finding plenty of small projects around the house I could do.. and would rather do.

And it leads to me thinking a lot and comparing what I have in DC vs. MI. I do this everytime and I know I will come to the same conclusion.

Move on

When I go back to Michigan, I go back in time. I go back to the old me, the college me, the joker, the see how much I can drink, the good ol' fun-time Jakes. It was this life that started to chisel away at my latest relationship when she saw me with the Michigan clan. She didn't like it. I didn't want to give it up. The rest is now at rest. When in DC, I'm supposed to be grown-up. I have this super-important job to tend to, which I've been slacking at of late. I'm taking a couple classes, which are kicking my ass of late. I'm supposed to be training for ultra runs and triathlons, and my training has taken a backseat of late.

Let go

I'm not as young as I used to be. Trips like this happen as often, or as seldom as they do.. because I can't drink like that every weekend! If I came home more often it wouldn't be the same seeing everyone. It wouldn't mean the same. Or would it?

Grow up

I will forever be working on this last one. I am one of the few that's not married or in a relationship. I live a pretty care free life. I can come and go as I pretty much please. However, it all scares me. You'd think at my age I'd know what I want out of life. I don't.

When I got off the plane in DC, I called my parents to tell them I made it in okay. I always call them. This time, and even as I type it now, I cried when I told my dad how tough it was to leave and that I loved them. I feel like a friggin baby. Maybe it's the alcohol talking.. it did some talking this weekend, which wasn't a good thing. It's probably the lack of peanut butter, too, that's making me so emotional.

Whatever it is, I need something to get out of this funk that I feel like I'm spiraling out of control into.