I arrived home last Wednesday night sometime after 9PM. The plane was over an hour late getting into Los Angeles, so I missed my connecting flight, but they put me on a later flight and I was still able to make my final connection back to Wisconsin on time. So all was good.

I knew I was going to be horribly jetlagged but still I went with my natural instinct to sleep when my body wanted me to and therefore my internal clock is still messed up. Going back to work this week has helped to “right” me somewhat but I’m still quite tired during the day and awake at night. But really, how is that any different than I’ve been all my life? Heh.

In any case, now that I’m back, I’ll be calling this journal finished, at least for this particular episode in my life. I’ll likely resurrect it for my next trip, which I began scheming up the second I got off the plane in Los Angeles. It’s been an incredibly difficult process adjusting to being back home after this for many reasons, not the least of which being the change in weather and time zone. I miss my friends terribly, excrutiatingly. I felt a sad desperation as I dropped my bags off in my bedroom at home, realizing I’d have to return to my old life again after a month of absolute heaven.

I can take solace in the fact that I’d actually been fortunate enough to experience my biggest dream, that I’d done everything to make it happen rather than only sit and dream about it, as well as the idea that this is only the beginning. I will be returning, and if all goes well, my friends will visit me here. Though hopefully by that point I will be somewhere more fun and inspiring, like Portland.

Taking this trip was possibly the best decision I’ve ever made. It has affected me more deeply than anything I’ve ever done, and it’s so comforting to see my instincts about many things proven correct. I now can say with complete honesty I know what true happiness feels like.