I left my (blue, KLM flight attendant) coat in a coffee shop in the Mitten this morning.
I left my U-shaped travel pillow in my parents' house.
The beauty of a sixteen day trip to State of Happiness (this is what it feels like, even though it's really two trips to the Mitten, not a trip to this place where I actually live) is that it doesn't matter much that I left my coat and pillow there. I'll be right back for them.
I did, however, replace the pillow in O'Hare airport with a memory foam pillow. And then I didn't bother to sleep on the plane. Useful.
On the first night that I was at my parents' house, I slipped on the stairs down to my room and fell down five or so of them - ker-thud, ker-thud, ker-thud, on my, how to say this delicately, posterior. While carrying a suitcase, a tote bag, and my purse. My left wrist is bruised from where my watch dug into my arm. Also bruised is my tailbone.
I noticed it periodically all week, but I wasn't sitting still enough to be truly disturbed. (Do I ever sit still? Not willingly.)
And then there was a turbulent four hour flight across the country (fasten seat belt sign on nearly all the time and I was in a window seat) and a two hour drive from Gone West to Universe City.