Time to clean

I'm having a bit of déjà vu this afternoon. While Kirk was preparing to leave a couple hours ago for several days of travel I said to him "Doesn't it feel strangely reminiscent of Sundays when we used to have to say goodbye?" He agreed. I'm sure no one else would have any idea what we were talking about. Let me explain. For the first year and a half that we were together (September 1996-February 1998) we were a long-distance couple. I lived in Washington and he lived in New York. We spent weekends together, and I always dreaded Sunday evenings when we had to say goodbye until the next time. It was especially hard after he left Washington and then I had to go back to my empty apartment. For some reason, as soon as I got back from dropping him off at the bus station, I would turn on some good, upbeat music and go on a cleaning frenzy. It passed the time well, and then I wasn't so sad. We've certainly come a long way since then. Now we're living in Switzerland and he's taking a taxi to the airport to fly to Hong Kong rather than having to take the Peter Pan bus (that's really the name) all the way to New York. It was a hellish way to travel, but it was by far the cheapest way to travel between NYC and DC. Anyway, strangely reminiscent of the old days, after the taxi pulled away I came inside the house, turned on my favorite Gwen Stefani CD, and found myself starting on a cleaning frenzy! It's funny how old habits come back so quickly. On that note, I had better get back to it.