I'm home for Easter.
WEll, by home I mean my family home, in the place I grew up.
It's just an hour and a half jet powered hop away from real home.

Something strange is happening this time though.
I'm here and I'm uneasy.
I'm not feeling the friction of reintegration into a contained family unit.

I love seeing my parents, my brother and as always I love seeing my friends. But there is a haunting reality about it all.

"You're no spring chick anymore Colum."

Those words bit into me last week. I had been walking down the Boardwalk of 'Home' at lunch during a momentary escape from work. A talk occured that was very personal. Dreams, opinions, and worst of all, some plans started to spill out through my professionalism filter.

Though a laugh had followed the words and no harm had been intended, it did hurt.
It was true.
So I went back from my lunch and sat in my office.
I spun round in my chair for a few circles. Grey, spotted and flared with posters, postcards, and post-its swirled by.
I pulled out the extension to my desk surface. A yellow note pad and a yellow wooden pencil. I began scribbling.
I pulled out my calculator.
I started doing the math of a dream.
It's Very hard math.... It's very emotional. It's all the harder to conduct a logical operation when emotional "clouding" occurs.

So here I am now, parachuted so very far away from work. In a place of complete comfort and safety, waiting for Sunday to come. I'm thinking about the math I did, I'm thinking the thoughts I thought. All the while thinking the same thoughts that are tied so deeply to these numbers and plans.

How many more Easters will I be coming back for?
How much longer until I feel that pull to go somewhere else for Easter?
When will it be that I will want to go somewhere else more often.

The answer is too clear.
Perhaps startling so;

Soon.
But not sooner than Sunday.
Sunday Afternoon... just after 5.

I'm beginning to wonder if I'll actually be at the airport to leave when monday morning finally arrives.