Well, I'm back. Three months, two continents and only a measly seven blog posts -most of which were focused on my hair- later. I have survived the 31 hour journey, recognised the husband, was recognised by the dog, and showered.
I am clean and home. Two very nice feelings to have at the same time.
Within thirty minutes of being home I was -surprise, surprise- on the web. Thankfully my desktop had all of my passwords saved so I can log into things I'd otherwise have well and truly forgotten. Actually I HAVE well and truly forgotten them, so I guess I'll have to order new ones soon. Just like my pin number. Again. For the, oh I don't know, seven hundredth time in the last year.
I'm thinking memory exercises and gingko may be in my near future. Or early onset Alzheimer's.
So now I'm sitting down again at my computer. In my study. At home. Where all my passwords are saved. Where my husband was alone for the last three months. Hmmm. I don't think he'd snoop. Go through my correspondence. Clear out my bank accounts of the 7.65€ I'd scrimped and saved. Read my innermost secrets in my diary.
Oh hang on, that's THIS thing. Wow do my innermost secrets suck.