Flipping open my suitcase, I grab my toiletries and a clean pair of pajamas and take it all to the bathroom, and I fill the tub.
Pouring a generous amount of bubble bath into the running water, I watch as the white foam multiplies. My muscles ache to sink into the too-hot water, but before I do, I head back to the kitchen and pour myself a large glass of wine.
Thanks to the new routine I forced myself into, I’m awake early, and to my surprise, I’m alert and ready to go.
Of course, it would be easy to roll over and wallow, but I told myself that my days doing that are long over.
I’m back home, and it’s time to restart my life.
I get up and get dressed into my yoga pants and sports bra. I drink my greens, which I actually don’t hate as much as I used to, and then I locate my TV remote and find the YouTube channel I’m following for the next tutorial.
With my mat in place, I get to work as the sun lights up the city beyond.
I loved doing this in Grams’ living room, but there is something even more magical about having this view.
I focus on my breathing and try to find my Zen. Or at least, I think that’s what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m still a beginner.
After an hour, and more positions that I never knew existed, I lie on the floor with my muscles like jelly and my heart racing.
I never thought I’d like this feeling, but it’s energizing in a way I never expected.
Eventually, my stomach growling forces me to get up, and after a quick look through my cupboards, I decide that staying in isn’t an option.
Sure, I could order in, but that’s not going to help drag me back to reality.
So instead, I grab a zip-up hoodie, my cell and keys, and I head out.
I have every intention of going to our local deli for one of their famous breakfast bagels and then back home.
I didn’t realize I’d missed it quite as much as I do, but now that I’m here, it hits me hard.
I find a bench to enjoy my bagel and coffee. I had every intention of going straight back to my apartment, but with the sun warming my face, I find myself doing the opposite.
I feel stronger than I have in a long time, or at least, my body does. Inside, I’m still a complete mess, but I think being here helps.
Without paying much attention to where I’m going, I just walk, taking in the sights that I haven’t seen for months.
After being in Grams’ small town, I have a new appreciation for how big and busy everything is here.
It reminds me of when I was first sent here for boarding school and we’d come into the city for field trips.
I might have traveled with my parents, but we never really went on city trips, and I wasn’t ever taken on business trips with them. I was either left at home with whatever nanny they’d decided was suitable at that time, or I was with Grams.
I’d seen plenty on the TV and in movies, but there really was nothing like the real thing.
Chicago felt like home right from the very beginning. And as much as I dreaded coming back, that same feeling of belonging is surging through my veins right now.
Before I know it, I’m standing in front of a very familiar building.
Letting my eyes roll up the huge panes of glass that cover every side, I finally get to the top. To the home of the KC Foundation.
Without stopping to think, I pull my keys from my pocket and walk toward the entrance.
My fob lets me in immediately, and I’m soon walking through the swanky reception area and to the elevators.
Again, I tap my fob, and just like I’ve never been away, it instantly takes me to my floor.
Seeing as it’s Saturday, the offices are deserted. It’s an eerie sight, but one that I embrace.