Doolies arrived at the airport at around six this evening. A couple from our Jewish conversion class had invited us to a Shabbos dinner early in the week. We had accepted, knowing that the best way to defeat jetlag when returning from Asia was to keep busy. We loaded Doolies’s bags into my car and drove from the airport directly to dinner. They served delicious shish kebobs, good red wine, crunchy challah bread, and good conversations.

We made it home a few minutes ago. Doolies is unpacking and surveying the mess that I created over the last two weeks. There are times when I am very clean, and times when I am anything but clean. These past two weeks have fallen squarely in the latter category. I don’t know if it was my inner passive-aggressive child attempting to exact revenge on Doolies for abandoning me over the past two weeks, or when Doolies was gone, I returned to my natural state of lazy dirtiness. Either way, the Castle hasn’t looked this bad in some time. Our housekeeper came last Wednesday. If it weren’t for her, the Castle would be almost unrecognizable. As we returned to the Castle, I left the kitchen lights off, afraid that the shock of the stacks of dirty dishes would be too much for Doolies’s jetlagged-laden brain to handle.

The weekend is upon us, and finally I have the Doolies back. This probably means that I will no longer have to draw my depressing doodles. Luckily, I have a large stack of them waiting for posting. I had a plan to do one today, but it doesn’t look like I’m going to get to it. I also won’t get back to the story today. I opened up the document and added a sentence, but realized that I didn’t have much left in me. This week has weighed heavily on me. I am looking forward to the weekend for a chance to recover and relax, and, of course, hold the Doolies.

I’ve spent the past two weeks growing a beard. It didn’t fill out as much as I had hoped. I misplaced the plastic part of my beard trimmers and it looks scraggily. I did not impress Doolies with my attempt at facial hair. I had warned her that I was planning to grow a beard while she was away. She assumed I would shave it off before she returned. She was wrong. I met her at the airport scruffy. She claims not to have recognized me, which I find hard to believe. Personally, I think it makes me look more manly and sophisticated. Our dinning couple agreed with me. We’ll see if the beard stays past my shower tomorrow.

For now, I’m pushing out the last few words before going to sleep. I hope to return to my rare form tomorrow. I’ll probably have plenty of time, as I imagine Doolies will sleep through much of the day. Now, if I can only resist the call of the video games.