ohmigod.

i think i've become an introvert.

i've had this sense lately of home. coming home, waking up at home, taking care of home, being content at home all day. i go out, i see people, i go to work, i listen to live music, i eat dinner, and then i when i open the door and everything is in it's place (and lately, that means shoes all over the floor, dresser in the living room, dishes on the night stand, and powersander on the windowsill... ) i breathe in deeply and plan fun things. move the furniture this way. wax the kitchen floor. pick all the leftover figs off the tree and eat too many. play bach at 3 in the morning when i'm wide awake from too much iced coffee. take a long long shower with indigo girls blasting. eat another snack. blog stalk. watch sex and the city while playing scrabble. write a letter. dream about more summer trips. hang a picture. plan something for my kids i've never done before, something that makes me excited to be a teacher.

and tonight. it's raining again and i am glad to be home. i just lit candles and turned on the broiler to char my marinated steak. and i may cook broccoli too, and potatoes, but my journal is calling me and sometimes you just want to eat meat and nothing else. because it's your home. and there's no place i'd rather be.