Like Having a Kid Going Off To Camp, Except Not At All

A little over two weeks ago, Trixie set off for a trip to South America. Before she went, I knew what organization she was going with (she was volunteering for a week before meeting up with her parents for the second week), and even did a few runs to check my shower curtain map (that thing is fucking priceless!) during our conversations as we talked about Chile, Brazil, etc.

Late last week I got an e-mail from Trixie that she was at the airport, heading home, and I replied. Since she was traveling with her parents back to the States, I assumed she'd stay at their house for a day or two. Trixie has yet to do laundry here, and instead chooses to bring it to her parent's house (where it's free). So it made sense that she'd stay at their place, catching up on laundry and mail.

I have not seen or heard from her since. Normally, we just yell "Bye!" to each other as we head out in the mornings if the other is in the common areas. If we'll be spending the night away from home, we let the other one know.

Since I've placed Trixie's mail in a pile at her bedroom door, I know she hasn't come home and gone back out while I was out, because she would have picked it up. Plus we take our shoes off when we come home and the only shoes near the front door are mine. She hasn't come back yet at all. I am wondering at what point I should worry. Because I'm already mildly worried.

Twice since moving in, Trixie mentioned to me that we should exchange phone numbers for close family members in case anything happened to us. We never did it, and if Trixie got separated from her parents on their trip, I have no way of getting in touch with them. There are 65 possibilities for people with her last name who live in the town her parents live in (the mountain).

I'm sending Trixie an e-mail tonight, asking her if she's okay. I hope she is, and to get a response soon. As much as it's fun having the place to myself, I miss Trixie, and can't enjoy my solitude while worrying about her.