A lonely bus ride back

Earlier this week I did this stunt where I packed a bag one night and got on the bus back to Ukraine the very next morning.

This wasn’t planned. Not exactly.

I just needed to go back for a few days and there was no time to think about it twice.

I got to go home for a few days. I saw my parents. Cuddled my cats. And even dropped by the office for an hour.

I took one of my cats to the office to say hi and show him off. He was the runt of the ‘office litter’ a year ago when I adopted him. Of course, I wanted to show how the little pipsqueak, who couldn’t even eat solids and would forget his way to the potty, grew into this marvellous black cat with silky smooth fur, suede nose, and mischievous eyes.

I took both my cats for their regular vet checkup. I had a nice chat at the vet clinic. They love my two rascals there. No wonder, with how often I drag them by the vet’s to check on every cough and sneeze. I’m an anxious cat parent. I’m not taking any chances. Not after I lost my first cat to undiagnosed cognitive heart disease.

I was home for a few days and it felt oddly normal.

I went to my dentist’s office. Got some work done and chatted.

I packed books and notebooks that I wanted to take back with me. Too many to carry.

I used two days off for my short trip.

Friday morning I was all packed and ready to go back.

After too many hours on the road, napping, carrying my heavy bags between borders, worrying about nonsense, watching the time change on my phone, and wondering if any shops will be open by the time I arrive…

I’m back but not home.

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