If you follow Starting Over at Sixty you know that I talk a lot about travel and the confidence it takes to be able to do it alone.  Well, I have been traveling for the better part of six weeks, some alone and some not, and I can tell you one thing’s for sure: there’s no place like home!  I thought I would be sad as I got on the plane in San Diego to head home, but I was excited.  As much as I loved every minute of my adventure,  I was ready to come home.  I’m not sure about the take away from that but I have some ideas.

First, as much as I loved not getting up with an alarm clock and not having to dash here and there, the time has come for me to get back into my routine.  I need to not read or watch Netflix until 1:30 a.m. and it’s time to get my bottom out of bed before 8:30.  That all felt great but a little lazy after a while.  It is time to get back to working out more often rather than saying I am going for a run, which is really going for a walk which is honestly me walking somewhere for lunch.  Hardly broke a sweat!

It’s also time to STOP EATING AND DRINKING five times a day, seven days a week.  It got bad, I’m not going to lie.  We started picking up dessert after breakfast every day!  Bad, bad, bad.

Also, my readiness to return has to do with my attitude.  I used to hate coming home from vacation, what I call re-entry.  It made me grouchy and I think that had to do with going back to my anything-but-happy marriage routine:  I hated to get back to that normal.  Now, I have so much to look forward to and such a warm environment where I live, I think I actually missed my place, all one room of it.  It is cozy and happy and safe and not filled with loneliness.

So, I really do mean, there’s no place like home.  Now, it’s time to get back to the routine that I love.