Oh, man am I tired. A long day at the airport flying across the country just so I can return on Wednesday. It's stupid, really. I still believe Andy would have saved money with me just chilling at the hotel for four days. Anyway, here I am back in California.
I know this sounds a little cocky, but when I got off the plane in Burbank I was imagining myself as The Beatles arriving at JFK on February 7, 1964. Burbank makes you walk down steps from the plane, so I stood there on the top step with my newspaper boy hat that I've been wearing and gave out a little wave. Of course, no one cheered and I don't think anyone even saw me, but who knows?
Then, I started to think that the airline screwed up the luggage since no one was getting their bags. I was nervous since you can never replace the items in lost luggage. Who cares if they give you some money? You can't replace the souvenirs. Finally, the bags came and I waited to head back to Glendale.
When Julian finally picked me up, I came back to a relatively unchanged apartment. Still no fridge. A lot of stuff I don't think moved in the duration of time I was gone. I don't know who slept in my bed, but they could have at least put my comforter back on. I don't care about making the bed, but it was lying on the floor.
I proceeded to spend the rest of the day re-organizing my stuff. I have this bad habit of continuing changes things. I think part of it is pure boredom and re-arranging items passes the time.
All I know is I'm tired and going to bed after "Entourage". I just want to relax the next couple days before I have to head back on Wednesday.