I was in Yakima, for a conference. We piled into cars and drove through mountains and the town where Northern Exposure was filmed to get there, and then we were at Adult Camp with 900 other Americorps, spread out at hotels across the city, sitting and workshopping and eating and networking. I did workshops about vision and art with these people and others about avoiding burnout, and sometimes, I did no workshops at all. There were lots of familiar Macalester faces in Yakima. None of us expected to see each other but we were so glad to. I could have been networking but I found myself existing in the cocoon of my team, which felt nice. We are beginning to feel like brothers and sisters.

In Yakima, as often when faced with 900 people, I was a manic, anxious mess. I popped klonopin like nobody's business and ran to hide in corners.

Then I got news and had conversations that rendered me almost completely nonfunctional. Conference-land is not where you want to be when anything serious is happening for the people you love. But on the upside, I managed it. I went into deep hiding, put on an ok face during mealtimes, talked to Jess and to Adam, who caught me looking white as a sheet in the hallway getting off the phone, and by the time we left was mostly ok again. It felt good to be crammed into a car full of young people going through mountains, laughing hysterically or quietly pressed up the windows listening to the small twanging of a folk guitar, or talking about the things that matter the most to us, or speaking in erroneous accents. It reminded me of Glacier.

The first time you return to a place and it feels like your home, happened. I tumbled into my bedroom and there was mail for me and then I tumbled into the kitchen and Adam came over to recap with Dana and I, and we planned to start a band of which I will be the artistic director, and then there were some hours in the kitchen with Mark and special appearances from Drew and Riisa, a hodgepodge meal of leftover stew and enchiladas and Mexican leftovers that Adam had left behind, running back and forth from the microwave to heat things and the basement and outdoor fridges to retrieve condiments, and the feeling of having been missed while gone. Laughter bubbling over. And then I crawled into my bed with a bottle of wine and wrote emails and watched a movie and went to sleep early.

I have been spending a lot of time in my bed. Perhaps because it is the fall, and I feel crazy, and it is the warmest, safest, most cocoon-feeling place I have.