I have to admit, it's getting easier.
It used to be when we returned from a weekend away we were both in tears by the time we got to the city limits.
Then, for a long time, it was just a shellshocked numbness, like we were returning to prison from a weekend furlough.
But today I found myself relieved to get home. And by "home", I mean the place we keep all our crap. Home may be where the heart is, but there's little chance of me leaving mine in Bako. And by "relieved", I mean three hours with two hot, squirmy dogs on you lap in the car is too much.
But all the same, I was surprised at how happy I was to be back.
That in itself may be a bad sign. It's a little worrying.
