This is one of those stories about human nature and personality that lacks a tidy ending or an easy moral. Perhaps that's the difference between real life and fairy tales; in real life, you don't get to turn the final page to see the theme of the story and answer the questions.

In real life, you get the questions as you go along, and you answer as best you're able with the information you have at the time.

I stopped going to the gym around the time I started my current job. I worked a lot of overtime, especially in the first six months, and I started promising myself that when life got a bit easier, and I wasn't so mentally exhausted, I'd make time. I didn't expect eighteen months to pass before I finally hit that point; me, who was so religious about going to the gym every day.

Dateline: New Westminster, BC.
(Note to self: Go see the old one sometime.)

As I've retold this story countless times in the time since I've returned, I figured the least I could do is share it here as well. I suspect it loses some of its boozy, imperative nature when committed to the written word, though; I think it's probably far funnier in person.

A cultural difference worth knowing: I was raised to hear pretty words, but not to take all of them at face value. An invitation to come stay with someone, if not repeated or mentioned again, was very likely someone just being polite -- not something to be acted upon. It turns out this is not true of everyone: some people issue an invitation only once, really hoping you'll take them up on it, and then shut up if you don't act on it. Ah, North versus South, are there any gaffes this cultural divide can't inspire?

Fast-forward.

I suited up early this morning, intending to be out the door well before 7. I know that my daytime minutes start at seven a.m., and that any call that starts prior to 7:00 gets entirely counted under night and weekend minutes.

Jody lives in Atlanta, and works the overnight shift. I don't call him as often as I should, but the timing of our lives means that he is finishing up his day as I am readying to start mine. I take a perverse delight in making sure my calls to him start just a couple of minutes before 7, with earpiece tucked securely in my left ear as I drive.

• 12:38 AM PT: [cat.net] homecoming. - http://domesticat.net/node/1437
• 10:15 AM PT: Best. Repacking. Job. EVER. I'm afraid to breathe on my bag lest it explodes.
• 11:49 AM PT: Last meal in Seattle. Subway by the airport.
• 12:46 PM PT: Last coffee in Seattle.
• 12:52 PM PT: As I walk the airport I think: hoodie, hiking boots, coffee. I think I have my answer.
• 12:54 PM PT: At gate, hoping I'll sleep on the cross country flight.

Just after midnight, Pacific time. We've played our games of Munchkin, I've infected Debbie with a fascination for the card game Set, and our night is done. I'm not packed, but all the Gessamans are in varying stages of bedding down for a long winter's nap.

It's time to go home.

• 12:07 AM PT: The west coast slackers have finally hit 2008. Happy new year to any of you who are still sober.
• 12:41 AM PT: I see you, @crazybutable - hugs to you and your girls. :)
• 1:55 AM PT: Quiet chat with @adamrg, now snuggled up under greatest blanket gift EVAR. Warm toes and hands? Happy Amy.
• 8:57 AM PT: Boiling water for tea. Soon, reading as the house wakes up.