Getting home involved two trains. Paris's Metro system is better, and cheaper, and far, far busier. It also doesn't service San Mateo or the San Francisco Airport.
I was amazed at how quiet it was when I stepped off the last train. I live in a "city", and by "city" I mean "part of the giant urban sprawl in the Bay Area". It's quiet. And the roads are the size of Paris boulevards.
Get home. Unlock door. Step inside. Drop backpack. Grab water, synch PDA, and check email.
I'm not addicted to computers. I can live without them (I obviously just did, for two weeks.) But I am addicted to information, and computers are a damn good source of that. Sitting down and jacking into the 'net is calming and interesting. So that's what I do.
I pull these LJ entries off my PDA - I've been worried about keeping them on there. A PDA is a mighty fragile place to store pages of writing. (Yes, most of these were written in Europe.) That's a bit of a relief.
Home is where the hard drive is.