Just one day short of four weeks.

I'm finally back in San Francisco again. The flight home was uneventful - the usual delays, the standard mad rush to reach my connecting flight in Chicago, the silent prayer offered up to whomever had made sure that my luggage hadn't been left behind.

My mom took me to the airport in Madison - as we were driving through the snow-covered downtown, she turned to face me and asked whether the trip had lived up to my expectations. I didn't know what to say - the stay had certainly seen its share of both ups & downs, but had I really expected anything else? I uttered a non-committal 'I suppose so' and we left it at that.

What I do know, however, is that it feels good to be home. I have things to do, people to meet, adventures to embark upon ... well ... adventures of the sort that do not require a whole lot of adventuring.

Welcome back me.