I hate leaving home...
Home isn't just where the heart is, it's where The Boys are. I know it's important for me to leave the house: for work, for shopping, for conferences, for friends. But I really, really hate it.
The good part about leaving is the Coming Back. No matter that someone stands not three feet away from me and screams, at the top of their lungs, that I'm an evil, horrible person... no matter that someone claims I'm trying to ruin their life and am hostile to them... no matter that years of trying to be a good friend to someone and to help them were wasted because they never cared about being friends... no matter what the problem or hurt or anything, The Boys are there to love me and purr at me.
No matter how messed up my system is because of a change to my usual routine (something that's really a problem when you have CFS), there's such incredible healing when I bury my nose in their fur and they snuggle close.