twenty-something

I'm back in Vermont -- and not by choice. I would've stayed away another week, or maybe forever, if I could've.

My jaunt to Boston proved to be longer and better that I had originally planned and imagined. It was my last visit to 51 Bartlett Street -- Yelli's home for the past five or so years, which was not only my second home for that time, but my primary one for a summer back in '03 -- and it was a bittersweet goodbye to such a great place as Yelli prepares to move this month. The weekend itself wasn't crazy-vacation-y, but it was some sort of perfect.

The only problem is -- now I'm back. And while I'm happy to be back at home, in my bed, I'm missing Yelli, the apartment, and the North Shore. I love Vermont, I do -- but I love Boston, too. And, perhaps for the first time since turning down that Boston job offer this past winter, I'm feeling drawn back to my second home, caught right back between Burlington and Beantown.

While the trip might have been just the refresh I needed right now, I'm more than a bit worried that it may be a source of more angst to come.