I'm sitting in an airport on the last leg of my journey home. I've spent the past 3 days at a conference in a big cold city on a lake. It had been several years since I attended this conference but I didn't find it much changed. This was the conference everyone in my graduate program used to attend and it doesn't quite fit who I've become.
I did have a nice time, mostly because I had plenty of opportunity to catch up with two old friends. Presentations went well and I even ventured out for a lovely tapas dinner. My friend and I have both moved South (she much further than I) and complained bitterly about the cold over champagne sangria.
So good times, good work, but I'm sick of traveling. I realized this was my 4th conference in less than a year. That much work-related travel no longer fits my life style (a good thing).
This year you'll find me at home.