Last Sunday, I drove home in the early afternoon. (I wanted to arrive home before the sun set. Succeeded, more or less.)
Monday, I drove to work, and then to the airport. A work-related trip took me to Atlanta. The return flight landed Wednesday at midnight.
I told myself "home again" that night. (Not quite "jiggety-jig", but close...)
While I enjoyed both trips, I feel like I'm in recovery.