My last day in St. Louis went well. I walked a couple of miles from my hotel to the Anheuser-Busch brewery and took the tour. Definitely worth the time.
I took a bus back from there and just rode it for a while, through downtown and up to the Central West End. When we got to a light rail station, I transferred to the train and stopped at Union Station for coffee. Walked back to the hotel and picked up my luggage, got back on the light rail and rode it to the end of the line (the airport).
All in all, the trip went well. I learned a few things, hopefully did well enough on the test to get my certificate (the three courses I took in this series are rewarded by a certificate that may or may not be valuable/meaningful/respected), and met some interesting people. I plan to get in touch with the other DC resident who was in my group.
The flight home was uneventful. I had to wait half an hour for the super shuttle, but I was the first stop! That never happens. I was home by midnight and felt totally up and awake as soon as I walked in the door. I knit on a sock for a while and didn't get to bed until 2am.
Saturday, I just lazed around. It was so gorgeous, though, that even lazy old me felt compelled to go outside. I took my huge book and hoofed it to the bank where I deposited the condo fees (finally!). (Aside: You know, I wrote to my condo-mates over a week ago, telling them someone would need to take over as treasurer. No replies. I have to give them a deadline next, I think. Stupid treasurer duties.)
I walked a few more blocks to one of my local coffee shops. It's amazing that I now have four decent coffee shops in easy walking distance of my house (15-minutes or less). When I moved in five years ago, the number was zero. I drank coffee, ate a muffin and sat in the front window reading my book. After an hour of that and I headed home.
I feel guilty because I skipped soccer clinic on Saturday evening AND I skipped going to a birthday get-together. I complain about having too few friends and then I don't take full advantage of my social opportunities. I guess I can give myself a break if all I wanted to do was stay home after a week out of town and insufficient sleep the first night back--but still. I wish I could have overcome my inertia and dragged myself to soccer clinic at least. I work like crazy and always feel elated afterwards. I need to get back to the goddamn gym. Soooo lazy!
Today was the last indoor soccer game--the first round play-off game, which we lost. We had a lousy season but I enjoyed it. Friendly group, though we didn't really "gel." We have rounded up an outdoor 7-on-7 coed team, but could use more players. If you're interested, let me know. If I do go to Paris, I'll only be able to play about half the season. And I'm sure we'll always need subs.
Tomorrow, it's back to work and the regular routine. I'm planning to talk to TR this week about my leave of absence. My stomach does flips flops whenever I think about it, but I know it's the right thing. I need to get out of there. I need a break, a change. The change is more important than it's exact form. When I talk to TR, I'll be more committed. That is good.
Grateful for: home.