I had my seat belt unbuckled before we even came to a stop, safety be damned. I grabbed my books, yawned, and all but tumbled off the plane. I was halfway through the jetway when the altitude caught up with me. Denver air will do that, sapping your muscles of energy while your brain still thinks there should be more in the tank.My tank was empty. It had been for twelve days. All I had to do was fall forward onto the motorized walkways, keep falling forward into the inter-concourse trains and hope that I ended up ass somewhere near teakettle on the escalators to baggage claim.

"She's not a Chinese puzzle box like you."—Chris

I forget sometimes that what I write here doesn't necessarily have to come with an explanation or an easy answer. Some days and some sentiments require me to take a deep breath and trust that what I say will be accepted for what it is, no more and no less, because I am as complex as my life and as simple as my love.

Live and sleep-deprived from Colorado, I present … us. Click the photo for a larger version.

Pandora is the little uber-plushy penguin on your left. Phoebe is the larger penguin with the knitted hat and scarf that we liberated from a thrift store earlier this week.

(Peter, the original Disco Penguin, is at home, guarding the cats.)

I wondered where I'd be. I got the answer tonight; an answer that was nearly four years in coming. As usual, the answer wasn't what I expected.

It was less.

It was more.

It became real to me as I watched the power lines swoop from pole to pole. No amount of packing or planning had managed to do so; the days after PHE had flown by in a fever haze that made the date of the trip slip up on me sooner than I could have possibly expected.

"Well, if you need me to take you to the doctor's office, call me back and let me know. Today's a quiet day. I can do it."

"I think I'll be able to manage. Thanks, though."

I hung up the phone and lay back on the couch. Maybe I'd get some sleep. I set an alarm clock, just in case, and closed my eyes. Only to cough. Again. I put another pillow behind my back and pulled the blanket up a little higher.

I looked down when I heard the little interrogative chirp?, knowing it meant only one thing—Edmund warning me that he was about to jump on my chest. I patted my chest and he hopped up, great lumbering tub of lard he is, and snuggled on my chest. He beamed a kitty smile at me and purred, gently flexing his front claws in rhythm with his breathing.