How many fleas must one pluck off of oneself before it is considered an act of self-preservation - and not Yankee snobbery - to leave the infested area, and head for the comfort of home?
That threshold, for me, was a little less than 24 hours. I got to see my family, and my beloved Brian, and I got to see some great friends.
In the words of the Foo Fighters, all I want ... is to be home.
I'm heading out tonight.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
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