Four more days, and I'll be on a plane back to Portland. I still don't know if I'll be coming back soon, but at this point there appears to be at least a 50/50 possibility that I will be, which means I'll have a week at home off work and then I'll be on a plane again, either back here to Cleveland or somewhere else where my services might be needed. It's not a prospect I treasure, but I did volunteer for this duty, so if I'm told my services are needed then I'm bound to go where I'm told. Even if I'm not called back right away, there's also the possibility that I might be called back later this summer, depending on what transpires as hurricane season winds into gear.
I have some very mixed feeling about all of this on a personal level. It seems that just when things are beginning to look up, I end up three times zones away from home. That can put a lot of things on hold, which is frustrating, but then I suppose anything worthwhile will still be there when I get home. I know that my presence here is making a difference, but it's hard not to feel as if my own life isn't on hold for these three weeks...and it essentially is. It could be worse, I suppose; I could have left a family behind. At least now it's just me. All I really had to do was make sure I had some clean laundry, unplug my coffee maker, and hop on a plane.
More than anything else, I'm just tired. No, I'm exhausted. I pass tired a long time ago. In fact, I so exhausted that I'm having trouble sleeping. I'm crabby, sluggish, and I spend most of my days fervently hoping that everyone around me will spontaneously combust...which pretty much makes me like everyone else I'm working with.
I could really use a nap...or a five-gallon bucket of Pike Place Roast....
