Going Home

I just bought a round trip ticket to Cocoa Beach. Well, technically into Orlando airport (thank you Southwest for your direct flights), but the ultimate destination is my parents new condo snuggled between the Banana River and the Atlantic Ocean.

I'm looking forward to it. Sometimes the city can be overwhelming. Like commuting. Ordinarily I don't mind my commute. In the morning there's always a seat on the "L", I read my copy of the Red Eye, and basically just zone out for 40 minutes. The afternoons are vastly different. The AC doesn't work. People jam elbows into you in order to squeeze onto an already overcrowded train. For a girl who gets motion sickness rather easily, it's a recipe for disaster.

I'm starting to think I might be rather delicate. That I get squeezy riding in the backseat of a car, that I feel faint if I stand up too fast, that I can't go to the gym without feeling both, is not something I'm proud of. For someone who is as strong in their opinions as I am, physical weakness is a hindrance.

I love Chicago, but sometimes I think all I need is a cabin on a mountain somewhere, a computer, and my cat. But then I'd probably be lonely. I'm on the verge of giving up on finding what I want. I'd settle for what's good for me at this point.