On Sunday afternoon, I lugged my suitcase back into my house after two glorious weeks in Scotland and England. Two weeks was the perfect amount of time to go away—long enough to really get away and fully enjoy the trip, and also long enough to become tired from 22,000-step days and spending 24/7 with other people (I love these fantastic people dearly, but I’m an introvert with a small social battery). It felt great to be back home with my cuddly cat, ready to luxuriate in my own personal space.
At least, until Monday arrived.
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