I thought it had something to do with Christmas. Yesterday I started writing a post about how different my Christmas is going to be, like it was a bad thing. I was boo hooing that I have no idea what Christmas will be like, never having spent it in Florence. A friend told me (with great love I'm sure) to remember the beautiful Christmases past and enjoy the beautiful Christmas present. Good advice. You'll never get to read that post. It's terrible. Trust me.
This morning I woke up and the air was, if not technically warm, at least warmer than the last few days.. The sun was threatening to shine. The animals were acting like themselves instead of like mopey teenagers. My first thought when I woke up all I could think was "Tomorrow I get to go home!"
And that's what's been wrong for all these weeks. I'm homesick.
I've been living in other people's houses, eating their food, and sleeping in their beds for the last four weeks. Half of that time I was also living in a language I barely understand. All my clothes are varying degrees of dirty having been worn anywhere from two to twelve times. All my clothes. Which isn't saying that I have mountains of laundry with me. I've been living out of a backpack for these four weeks. Things have been rinsed and things have been hung outside to take some of the dirty out of them. (For future reference, that "clean" you get from hanging them outside bit only lasts about five minutes.)
I read Bill Bryson's In a Sunburned Country five times and a single James Bond novel six times because they were the only English books we had. In the first two weeks I watched more hockey than any American will get to do this year. I've also watched cross country, biathalon, and down hill skiing, and horse dancing. I've watched probably hundreds of nightly reports on these sports as well as soccer, hand ball, floor hockey and bowling. All in Swedish. Which worked for me because I really don't enjoy watching sports news in any language.
So I've been bored out of my skull, aimlessly wandering around my temporary homes and occasionally lifting my nose into the air and wondering "Whoa....is that me?" followed quickly by "No, it couldn't be. Must be an overweight mountain goat passing by." I've been the perfect guest, but even the perfect guest can get a little restless sometimes and start to long for home.
That's where I'm at right now. I'm ready to go home and start this Christmas thing in earnest. Also laundry...I don't even know where to start there. I think I'll get a library card. I need to watch White Christmas. So much to do and Christmas is only a little more than a week away!