Or is it weird that I spontaneously burst into dance now that I'm home all the time. I'll occasionally catch myself doing it, which makes me afraid that many times I don't catch myself doing it. But it's true. I'll just be walking up the stairs, I'll get to the top, and the next thing I know I'm throwing a Michael Jackson kick in the air, pounding my chest with a flick of the wrist, and finishing off the flourish with a "hee hee" and a mini gasp.
I am, I guess. I don't know if that means I'm happier at home or that I'm going crazy at home. For now, I'll stick with the happy theory.