Next Wednesday, it will have been five months since we evacuated ahead of Hurricane Ike. That seems like a long time, but I keep having little experiences that tell me otherwise.
Apparently I'm having some travel psychosis. I'm going to a conference that's an hour away from my house, maybe two hours in bad traffic. I'm bringing my family and staying the night. And when I started packing my bags (yes, plural) last night, I had to re-pack three times to whittle away at the week's worth pile of clothes and shoes.
It seems I haven't entirely gotten over the fact that the last time we headed out for a 3-day vacation, we ended up being stranded for two months, and then relocated permanently. I guess it makes sense that that kind of experience does something to you. I guess I'm just surprised it lasts so long.
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