Today is the shortest day of the year. I’ll spend it all indoors at work. I’ve got no problem with that. It’s cold anyway.

It’ll be strange not being home. No NBA Live at Jon’s, no 25 ft. breakers at Waimea Bay, no fake christmas tree, no fireworks at Grandma’s. But sometimes going home is hard for me. It’s hard to see grandpa in his old age, hard to see my family for a little while only to leave them again, to see some of my friends a couple times and never really catch up.

It’s like a single serving of home; enough to feel familiar but not ever filling.

And I think this is frightening but natural at the same time. When you live so far from home you get desensitized to the holidaze.

It’s not so bleak. Not so fast. 🙂 Many times during the year I find cheer and joy everytime I call home, talking to Mom and Dad, talking to Grandma and Grandpa every other week even though I’m not sure if Grandma can hear what I’m saying, chatting with Kelly online everyday. My old friends, well, they’ll always be my friends. Next time we can almost catch up.

This year? A time for reflecting, really — a look back on where I’ve been and what I’ve been through and a long look forward at where I want to go and what I have to do to get there.

My mind is pretty full, and I know my family understands that. I will go home soon, just not right now.

Sad? Nah. Just thinking.