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Here I sit at the airport; coffee in hand, surrounded by strangers, watching my kids take random pictures of….who knows.

Part of me wants to get back, refreshed and ready to get my shit together. The other part, the part that’s not so extreme, doesn’t think my shit isn’t together. That part isn’t ready to go back to the draining effect my MIL has on me. Unfortunately, my mind is already going there. I have a few, precious hours left and I wish I wasn’t thinking about this.

My habit when I travel back home, from anywhere, is to plan new habits. Habits that will help manage my anxiety better. I’m always thinking about how I can do things better, and I do okay for a few days and then I slowly go back to my routine. Ugh! Maybe this time will be different….probably not. Lol

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