I have to say it again -- it's good to be home. I walked in the front door, and immediately all sorts of stress rolled off my shoulders. It's not just having a husband again (although that's AWFULLY nice :-), and it's not just that I love the house we're in -- although I definitely do. It's more of the little things, like the smell (isn't it weird how there's a distinctive smell that says "home" that we never would normally notice?) and the way the light hits the walls... and the fact that when I feel like baking a cake I damn well bake a cake! Or die (I mean, dye -- freudian slip, there) my hair, or rearrange my plants, or whatever.
I have WAY less free time, but when you're away even "free" time is never really and truly free to do anything you want. Don't get me wrong; I had a wonderful working vacation, but as I said before: it's good to be home.
A little piece of irony for you (although I'm never sure if I am using that word in the right way): I was very much looking forward to having my kitties around again, and snuggling up with them at night; however now that I'm home it seems that my cat allergy (which was fairly minor to begin with, and non-existant in the past few years) has resurfaced. Dh did all sorts of cleaning to welcome us home, and I've had to redo most of it to get rid of as much cat hair as I can! Sigh...