I haven't written about Rome.
I've gotten three of four days' pictures edited and uploaded onto Facebook.
I've gotten arrival and the Vatican museum settled into a photo book.
I've even gotten the travels to Rome and getting to our hotel logged into my journal.
I have unpacked and washed the clothes. The souvenirs are sitting on my coffee table, untouched. (Except the ones for family. Those are delivered.)
But I haven't written about it here. I haven't much been even thinking about it. I came home to a flat tire, broken air conditioner, and a broken uncle that still requires several trips to downtown D for visiting. I've been to two different hospitals since being back, though one was for a brand new baby visit so it brings nothing but joy.
So it's been busy and "life-y" and routine here. And Rome seems like a distant memory, even though I got home less than a week ago. I don't have it to look forward to anymore. Without sounding overly dramatic, I don't have anything but summer to look forward to anymore. The trip being over just seems to be a huge let down of sorts.
I tend to have this reaction when I go on trips. Both times I've come back from Guatemala I've had to have a bit of a readjustment period. There are some underlying issues with this, but I'm not going to go over them here.
I'm going to try to recount some of the fun, fabulous time that was Rome. It was a much-needed break, and I am so thankful and blessed to have been gone. It's just a little depressing to be back is all.
And I'm all about full disclosure here on this little blog.