I'm like that cat that scratches at the door to be let out and then, once let out, wants to be let back in again.

Skipped hot yoga after work today. I mean, it's not literally hot yoga, but the instructor has become the object of much, um, objectification. Many crude, sexual jokes are made at his expense. Mostly by me. That's bad. Is that bad? He's so lovely.
I was happy to get home today. I've been feeling really discombobulated since I've spent the majority of the last six weeks house sitting for some friends and my mom. I enjoy doing it because I like the change of scenery, but I do start to get confused after a while. It doesn't take much.
So! I get home and I unpack and I'm snug and happy in my place with my laptop and my music and I chat with Michael and say no, I just want a night to myself and I'm not coming over and I finished reading "A Man in Full" and, swear to god, within two hours of being home I'm bored. It's nuts.
Additionally, why the hell am I supinating like crazy on one foot only? Holy bad bio mechanics, Batman! I feel another trip to the physiotherapist coming on.
Maybe one to the therapist as well...