Homebody:  [hōm′bäd′ē] – a person mainly concerned with affairs of the home or one who prefers to stay at home.

Yep, that’s pretty much my M.O.  except for the red shoes.

Being places, seeing family and friends, those things are fun.  Traveling to get there is not.  First, I’m obsessing about what to pack, how many meds, supplies, equipment, extra, etc., will I need to last me until I return home.  Because there is always that – thing hanging over me.  I don’t even know what the item is!  But it is the one I completely forgot that is critical to have.  This horrible fear of screwing up is agony.  Why don’t I trust myself?  I made my list and checked everything off.  I packed my suitcase like an overstuffed parlor chair.

Then, I open the fridge door to grab my water bottle as we leave for the airport.  At this moment, my heart stops, and I can’t breathe.  I see the little drawer I keep my insulin in – that was not packed. This is why I don’t trust myself!  I can’t stop beating myself up about it.  I imagined my pump alerting me to change it to a new one and realizing I had not packed the insulin.  Whew!  Close call there, but no harm done.  Not physically.

Because of approaching snowstorms, I am dumped off at an airport hotel the day before my flight.  It took until noon to dig the cars out from the previous night’s snowfall.  Then another 3 hours to navigate icy mountain roads to Sacramento – normally a 2-hour trip.  After a quick kiss and hug goodbye, hubby & son were back on the road, hoping to beat the incoming storm home.  I was able to relax here in a hotel, alone, with power.  I felt almost giddy.  I could even watch a movie on TV.  The mountain has not had electricity since the last week.  I almost felt guilty.  I got over it.

After a leisurely shower, I watched a movie, wrote in my journal, and slept like the dead.  The 4:30 am wake-up call got me outta bed and repacking.  I wanted to “gussy up”, but in the hideous fluorescent bathroom lighting, no amount of makeup or hairspray could help me look better than a morgue shot.

I was looking forward to a large coffee at the airport, but the coffee shop line was so long that I had to get out of line to make my flight.  I was still feeling edgy from nearly leaving my insulin in the hotel room fridge.  Thank you, Guardian Angel!

I can’t leave home without him 🙂

TTFN