Movement

Just when I'm starting to feel a little stagnant at work, I head out on the road.

I'm flying out tomorrow for the great, wide West. I figured there's not time like the present (especially when the present is the low-season for airlines) to go out and meet my brother-to-be. I'm going to spend the long weekend visiting some young children I love (and their parents) and then going North to visit my siblings (and their parents) and do a little early-wedding-planning. I had kind of gotten it in my head that it would be another six months at least before I saw any of my family, so I'm very excited and a little taken aback that I'm going to see them so soon.

Family is always a mixed blessing, though, isn't it? For every joy, there is also some unspoken guilt, and every time I go home I go through a period of wondering why I live so far away and then being reminded why it's not so bad to live far away after all. Things are never simple with family, even in the best of times, and when you only see them a couple times a year all the drama is compacted into a shorter time frame. So. I feel I may have more to say on this matter by the end of my trip. Or maybe all my worry is for naught and I'll just have a wonderful time.