To my peoples in the East

Home again, home again jiggity jig.

Except it doesn't feel like home, really. I'm not one to "turn on a dime." Although I've become much, much more laid-back with age (thanggod), I still take a while to process, consider, and accept. I couldn't be more shocked than in the few short days after the Bar, I've come to consider the Bay home. That's not entirely fair - I've seen this day coming for a long time, so I've been mulling it over in the back of my mind. (The backup hamster and wheel, if you will.)

It's sweltering and nasty here, and I'm already missing my "sunglasses and sweatshirt" weather out west. I miss Pat and the Star and it hasn't even been an entire day.

But all in good time, my first order of business is moving. The next colossal task is selling my house (I'm sure my retired father will ably assist me in that endeavor.) After that, it's all a slow waterslide to living and working in the Bay.