I've been home way too long now. I've been productive here with photographs, and even managed to print close to a couple of hundred photos (first prints in a long time). Being able to spend time with people without incessantly watching the watch was great.
Lots of music too, some of it recorded, which was glorious fun to make. Immense kindnesses from the closest friends, for whom I feel always unworthy. But I find I'm strangely anxious to be immersed in work and deadlines and classes and all that again. Spending Christmas here has made me all the more adamant I don't want to live here again, at least not for a very long time. Maybe it's just because I'd gotten used to being busy and having empty days stretch out ahead was difficult to get used to. Or maybe I was just sick of it anyway and the alternative has spoiled me.