I come home tomorrow. But that's tomorrow. tonight I'm in London. I have a pounding headache. I'm angry. And sad. And Tired. And overwhealmed. And just stuff. I need to have my own bed, and sleep for a long time, and then drink a shit-load of coffee. And then invite all the really cool people I know over for one giant cuddle-fest. I need processing time. And decompressing time. And, and, and I really wish I had someone here tonight to shuffle around London with me and half-heartedly kick lamp-posts. I keep clenching my jaw here. There's too many people, and too much noice, and I have these flashes where my blood pressure goes through the roof and I want to scratch out the eyes of everyone I see. And theres loud techno seemingly everywhere. I think I'm just really over tired and a little sick. It should go away soon. I really really want to go home, and I really really don't. Okay, force marching back to the hotel and going to sleep for at least 8 hours. Tomorrow.