So then we went to the Melting Pot.
Man oh man. Our waiter was a salesman. Very slick. Upsold Dad to the Big Night Out instead of the less expensive and more practical Fondue for Two like that - *snaps fingers* I did like that he talked Mom out of her usual white zinfandel in favor of a riesling; white zinfandel is just plain nasty, IMO. It's the wine you get when you don't know shit about good wine.
Grandma had never been to the Melting Pot - and Grandma is.... kinda slow these days. So I spent a big part of the evening just being Grandma's fondue coach.
I did have some sort of allergic reaction. I'm pretty sure the lobster was to blame. Not that I ate any, but Granma was cooking a lot of it in our pot. Itchy eyes and coldlike symptoms = consistent with shellfish allergy. (All of my allergies present different reactions. 'S weird.)
So when we went home, I went for a walk to clear my head.
I'd forgotten. I'd forgotten that I need to do this every time I travel. docorion knew - he took me out and walked me around Malden as soon as we arrived. But I'd forgotten.
I need to walk the perimeter.
I need to feel where I am.
Florida air is the northern air as Guinness is to Bud Light. Florida air is the air that breathes like a meal. It's heavy.
Florida wildlife is toads, snakes, lizards, not squirrels and chipmunks. We are close to the Everglades there, and it shows. A random rampaging alligator would not be very surprising.
This is where I come from.
So I walked - kneeling to observe a toad. Petting the dogs who were puppies when I left, the puppies of my favorite (now-deceased) neighborhood dog. Marking my way - there's the spot at the lake where I made out with the boy I liked. There's the spot where I found the dog that literally followed me home. Careful - there's a snake!
And when I came home, I was no longer out of sorts. And I went to bed.