I thought I'd celebrate by going to see my family.

I leave early next week.

It's only five days, I'm telling myself. 

I am telling myself:  you will land at the airport.  You will go to the store and buy some food, the closest thing to food you can find that only you will eat and everyone else will laugh at.  You will proceed to the over-air-conditoned house.  You will never leave the house.  You will be left behind.  While there you will be derided.  You will suffer it five days and then go to the airport where you will go home.  And you will say not a word about it. 

Bring a really big book.

Bring a sweater.

Do your duty, be gracious, and fuck them all.

Amen.