Back to the "real" world

Having a few days with friends in Boston is a good thing.  They didn't have much warning that I was coming so they weren't able to take off work.  During the day, I'm on my own.  But in the evening, they hang out with me.  They are even going through all 2000 pictures I took while on the Trail.  That is a sign of true friendship.  Two THOUSAND pictures.  We're on evening #3; we might finish tonight.  So, here's how it's gone so far since my horrific bus ride.

Evening after bus ride:  Jaime and Dan took me to Five Guys hamburger restaurant.  I realized I would now need to start counting calories - well, LIMITING calories - no more hiker hunger satisfaction for me.  Back to sedentary metabolism, preparing for menopause and learning how to not eat... anything.  I failed - had a huge cheeseburger and a whole bag of fries.  OK, will start the permanent diet tomorrow. 

By 9 pm I was really tired - afterall, the sun had gone down and "hiker midnight" had come and gone, but we were hardly home yet, and I hadn't seen them in a year so I should stay up and talk with them.  They went to bed at 11:30.  "Goodnight Sarah!"  "Goodnight Jaime!"  "Goodnight John Boy!"  Doors close, and I'm all alone.  In a room that could easily sleep 2 more on the floor and a bed that could hold 2 people.  Yeah, 4 people should be sleeping in this room.  Why am I alone?  I realized I hadn't really slept by myself in 6 months.  It was kinda' lonely.

Day 1:  wake up and cry; wonder if I made the right decision; look at weather in Maine about every 30 minutes on the internet; look at Facebook to see if anyone posted new pics from the Trail every 15 minutes; call friends and family to let them know I was off Trail and where I was.  cry more.  In between, I walk around restlessly in the four walls of Jaime's house.  I could go outside, but it's all cars and road, and I don't know my way around the streets.  I should go get clothes, but... well, I have clothes on, and they've been good enough for 6 months. 

I realize around 2pm that I hadn't eaten anything.  I open the cupboards and am overwhelmed by the choices.  Now, the kitchen is not a strength of mine to begin with and I'm usually at a loss of how to put together all the individual ingredients staring back at me.  Today was total overload.  I saw peanut butter- what a comfort.  I grabbed jelly (it was even strawberry).  And though they didn't have tortillas, they did have a flat bread product.  Perfect.  Tomorrow, I will try to begin to eat like a normal human.  Today, this seemed productive enough.

Once Jaime and Dan get home, it's OK.  We all make dinner together.  We get through about 600 pictures.  We all go to bed, and I'm alone again.  It's not quite as weird tonight.  Deep breath.  I can do this.

I learned something about myself - I love community and being with people more than I even realized.  I need to go home.  I was thinking I would do a little more traveling before I went home.  I thought that would be a good transition back to real life.  But no.  I think I need to go home and be surrounded by friends and family.

Day 2:  wake up and determine that I will be somewhat productive today.    Maybe yesterday was a needed zero day for me.  But first, I needed to have a good cry.  Then, I put on my shoes and start walking toward the consignment shop to buy clothes (after checking for Trail pictures on FB and the weather in Maine).  The shop was closed, and I realized that if I wasn't traveling around for a bit that I really didn't need clothes, so I kept walking.  I passed several people on the sidewalk.  I began asking every one of them where the Walmart was - just so they would have to stop and talk to me.  I knew where it was, but it was a good excuse to interact with strangers who were also walking on the same sidewalk as me (we had that in common at least).  I found Walmart and a grocery store.  I walked around the grocery store for an hour, talking to my mom on the phone, trying to absorb all the various food choices again.  Wow, canned goods - so heavy, and yet... I don't need to worry about that anymore.

I get the brilliant idea to make dinner for Jaime and Dan tonight.  First attempt - get overwhelmed, buy nutella, go outside and sit on curb and eat it.  Ah, that feels normal.  I look for packs leaning on the wall outside, or bearded men with filthy shirts.  Oh, this is not normal.  Deep breath.  Go back inside - learn to cook a real meal.  Second attempt - not too bad.  I ended up with ravioli, pesto sauce packets, salad fixings, and a brownie mix.  Not exactly cooked from scratch stuff, but still, not too shabby in my book.

Before I went on the Trail, I was a night owl - rarely went to bed before midnight of 1 AM.  I'm realizing how much of that is because of artificial lighting.  How quickly my body moved back to wanting to stay up late.  I was certainly cured of hiker midnight.  I went to sleep a little after 1 AM. Part of that time was spent online looking at car insurance - something I will need to purchase before I do too much else when I get home. 

Day 3:  Woke up this morning ALMOST feeling normal.  Felt able to make decisions on how to get home and when.  Made actual plans for this weekend (no I won't be home quite yet).  I haven't even been on Facebook yet today (that will be next).  Rather, I looked at some fun classes I could take when I got home.  I looked at a few places to see if they were hiring.  I compared a couple more insurance quotes.  Huh, it's like I'm a civilized human being again.

And sadly, the Trail is already starting to seem more like a dream than reality.  It was "this thing I did".  It's not so present.  Oh dear, now I get to cry again.  Better go do a Maine-weather check.