Having returned from my year abroad in America a month ago, I was sad to see the 4th of July celebrations all over my newsfeed whilst I sat at home, 5,000 miles away from my American counterparts. However, having left America a month ago I have felt surprisingly happy to be home; after seeing other people’s reactions to leaving I was expecting emotions to run high, but the only event to evoke such emotions has been compiling a ‘year abroad scrapbook’ (and also Andy Murray winning Wimbledon).
One theory I have formulated for this lack of emotion towards leaving has been the weather. Since being home, the weather has verged on gorgeous (especially over the last week, just in time for the tennis) which has made leaving the perpetually-sunny Arizona much easier. The fact that towns in Arizona have been almost spontaneously combusting has also helped in this; I’d very much like to step outside and keep my skin, thank you.
Another theory is home comforts. Even being in Leicester for a term, coming home for a weekend can be bliss. Of course, too much of a good thing and all that… but gosh, for a weekend to have mum-cooked meals and your own bed (stuffed animals optional) is sometimes exactly what you need. After settling in to Arizona, I felt myself counting down to coming home towards the end of my time there, and even though I do as little as I did there, having my parents and my pets around makes the difference between a house and a home.
Of course, there are still things to crack on with. Putting off emails can only get you so far, so I’ve fired those out and can comfortably sit waiting for the replies knowing I’ve at least done something. Dissertation worries loom and are already creeping into my dreams, so grab the popcorn and watch this space for a full on mental breakdown.