I made two seperate trips to the airport on the Sunday after the residency. In between, I watched random bits of television, including The Weather Channel, and I ate brunch with two of my bestest Lesley pals. Afterwards, I went home and watched the Patriots. All in all, it was a good day.
First off, I was happy just to not wake up with a wine hangover. I had taken precautions, drinking plenty of water, taking a couple of Ibuprofen in the wee morning hours, and all that. But I still thought I might wake up with a nasty headache. That I did not was the first of the day’s blessings.
My first trip to the airport, to drop Bryan off, went without incident. It went so well, and so quickly, in fact, that I ended up with a lot of excess time, or so I thought, before I had to pick up Shera.
I stopped in Harvard Square to buy my books for the semester, but I was having no luck. About the time I gave up is when Shera called me on my cell. I booked it back to my car while she called Jill, who we were going to meet up with for brunch.
I picked up Shera and we drove to Jill’s. Jill was watching The Weather Channel, which we continued to watch until some of the footbal pregame shows came on. We did that for a while and then went out to brunch.
After brunch, I dropped Jill off at her place and then drove Shera to the airport. Like last time, I was sad to see her go. Dropping her off was sort of the symbolic end of the residency for me last time and it was this time as well.
I came home groggy and ready for bed, and convinced that the Pats were going to lose against the Colts. That they did not lose, that they, in fact, kicked the Colts’ asses, was a great way to end the weekend. I wasn’t ready for heartbreak, not on the day after the residency.