Home is one of the magic words. It goes way beyond the specific house or the town or whatever. It is, I guess, coming back to being myself.
Not that I’ve been going around in dark glasses and a moustache impersonating someone else. Just that I’ve been living for the last days with an emphasis on particular parts of my personality. Some of them I should emphasize all the time: the helpful, patient parts that have made it possible for me to take care of my mom and dad. Some of them, not so much: I am much stupider than when I left as a result of passively watching my mom and dad watch golf and Survivor and the like. I have de-emphasized the thinking and reading and concentrating parts of myself. I have done almost no writing.
Now if I could just bring the pool with me…