Please Define 'Home.'

Home is where the heart is, or so they say.
I have been back for about a week and half now, and have spent very little of that time not driving, meeting with someone, unpacking, or sleeping. With my parents having been in San Diego this past week, all driving responsibility has fallen on me. Not that I mind, but being up at school and therefore deprived of personal means of transportation, it has seemed something of an overload to be required by another to drive every morning, and then for personal reasons, to drive in the afternoons/evenings as well. Especially since I cannot seem to be left alone with that beloved car for very long before something blows up. It's kinda a problem.
As far as meeting with my people here, many of them I have not seen since Christmas or spring breaks, for these coffees and lunches and adventures are either with people that I love too much to not see extremely often, or people that I have not seen in quite awhile, and therefore catch-up is extremely necessary. I love both kinds. Being away for eight months has pruned the list of must-see friends. And (if I do say so myself) the list is about as perfect and to my liking as I could have hoped for.
Unpacking. The bane of my existence. The floor of my room has been overtaken by a massive pile of coats and blankets, unnecessary for the summer, but they have to go somewhere. My papers and notebooks I have barely touched, and everything seems to have expanded in size since the last time I tried to pack it away. Another problem. And my innate tendency towards "forgetting" to clean it up means that it might be next fall when I go back to school that I see my carpeted floor again.
And finally, sleeping. I still feel as though I am still catching up on the hours that have been missed in the past eight months. Eleven 0'clock seems about as late as I can make it without stimulation or necessity of some kind to stay awake. I feel very lame; after all, college kids should be able to party all night, right? Or not. My life is craving the routine of having classes to attend, and I am more than beginning to feel this lack with an intense acuity for something I did not think I would miss (at least not this soon): a schedule.
On a lighter, more exciting note, I found out Monday that I was accepted into the study abroad program at Oxford for next spring! So much excitement at the very idea of finally being able to live for four months in Europe...my romantic side is screaming and crying with glee, and my logical half is reveling in the academic intensity that will accompany the joy. Both halves are beyond happy.