I just spent the last 40 minutes on facebook looking at pictures and videos of family.
I text back and forth with my dad (who does that?) and I call my mom on the way to class and work (hey, a 10 minute walk, that's plenty of time for news from the home front!
Not a day has gone by for several weeks that I haven't mentioned to someone (more than not, my two roommates) that I'll be home in just [x-number] of days.
I love to hear that Dad did okay on his STATs test and the Mom spent hours at the print shop. I like that I'm talking with my friends about our July vacation in October and that I often say, "Me and my sisters listened to this on our road trip to Nashville" with enthusiasm. I'm glad that Kat and Josh have started a new Bible study, that Kara's gotten so many residency interviews, and that Emily has goofy friends filling her room with phonebook pages. Any photos of Dolly just light up my face.
You see, I'll be home in just a few days and the suspense is teasing me. I measure my tasks against, "Oh, I'll be home soon, so don't worry about it," or, "If I can just make it til Thursday..." Like an addict, these sort of rationalizations in the face of my addiction don't make much sense. But as of now, I can't help it. I love these people.
Soon enough I'll get my bi-monthly fix, I guess, and I may return to normal. We'll see.
