Homesick

I do not normally write about my feelings here. My feelings are of interest to nobody except myself, and even then I have my doubts. Certainly when I write about feelings, and then read what I wrote, my usual response is to yawn so hugely I am in danger of dislocating my jaw.

Which reminds me . . . speaking of dislocating jaws (which is FAR more interesting than my feelings) I once had an elderly student confide in me and the rest of her class – a small one – something she told us she had never told anybody else before. She told us that when she was on her honeymoon, many, many years ago, she and her husband went on some sort of tour of Japan. Early the second morning, while they were waiting for a train out in the countryside somewhere, she yawned so hugely she dislocated her jaw.

It was by far the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to her, she said. She did not know her new husband very well yet, and stood with her hand over her mouth wondering what to do. Her mouth would not close, and she soon discovered it was not possible to discreetly pop a dislocated jaw back into place. She finally asked him for help. (I imagine it sounded something like, "I can't close 'y 'outh! Hel'!")

They rushed off to find a doctor, who not only fixed her jaw but also instructed her husband on how to fix it, just in case it happened again.

After she had finished telling her story (and everybody had stopped laughing) there was a short silence. Then I asked her if it ever did happen again, and she said it didn't.

"Must have been a good honeymoon!" I said.

She blushed. Then one of the other ladies suggested,

"Or a very boring one?"

She blushed even more, and everybody hooted knowingly. But she refused to tell us which interpretation was correct.

(Was that the longest digression you have ever read, or what?)

ANYWAY.

What I started off to say was that although I very rarely write about my feelings here (because they are boring, even to me) I want to write about my feelings today. My feelings today are totally irrational, but at the same time entirely normal, at least for me. You see, today is the day before I travel, and on the day before I travel I get unbearably homesick.

This is, of course, stupid. I have not gone anywhere yet. How can I feel homesick when I am at home? But I do. I feel dreadful. I want to stay home. I can't imagine why I thought it was a good idea to leave, even temporarily. Leave The Man? How silly! Why would I do that? Why would I want to go anywhere? Right here is perfectly all right. Here is home. I don't want to leave it. WHOSE STUPID IDEA WAS THIS, ANYWAY?

I made the mistake of telling The Man this about this earlier today.

"Whose idea was this, anyway?" I demanded, and he looked a little surprised.

"Wasn't it yours?" he asked.

I almost hit him.

But I know that once I start moving I'll be perfectly fine. This happens every time I go away. The feeling evaporates as soon as I'm on my way to the airport, but that doesn't stop it from being horrible while it lasts. I know the holiday will turn back into something fun and interesting and worth doing. It's just the day before that gets to me.

I WANT TO STAY HOOOOOME!