The last day in London was fantastic.
My whole soul was just in total turmoil because leaving was heartbreaking and yet I missed home and my family like crazy. Although really, once I stepped into the temple and my name was written down on a little slip of paper, I felt like I was home again and everything was okay.
And that's how it stayed.
The rest of the day, I went to the British Museum, and then to a concert (NOT choral for once--weird!).
Then commenced the never-ending day! You would think my day would end at 10 PM... but oh NO you're wrong! It had just started. After packing, listening to Justin Bieber, talking to some of my beloved residents online, I made the executive decision to not sleep.
I know, that doesn't sound smart. But when I thought more and more about it, nothing could seem more logical! (Weird... I just accidentally typed "musical" instead of "logical." I guess that could work!) Anyway, I was basically shaking up my internal body clock to the point of utter confusion. I stayed up with my friend Elena, giggling and watching clips of Winning London in which the backgrounds were all places we had been. THEN, woo hoo! Taxi to Heathrow, train to the other terminal, through security, and WAITING. Then... flying! Then waiting, customs, security, waiting... FLYING! and home.
I really ended up with no jetlag. I stayed up until about 10pm that night, which would normally be 6 am for me, and woke up without an alarm around 8 am the next day! Of course, I slept in the middle of the day on Saturday, but it's really just because I wanted to rid myself of my allergies, with the excuse of jetlag.
So now I'm home, and loving it all again. It feels so circular. James is dancing with his shirt off singing "Gotta Shake, Baby Shake!!" and Terra was playing one-person tetherball again today. I just LOVE being home!! It's like taking a breath after swimming under water for a while. Swimming is wonderful and lovely feeling, but breaths are incredibly necessary.