A sign of emotional fragility, or a sign that I am Poland-bound soon?

Three-thirty. Say good-bye to my man Jason (best hair person in town, hands down). Look at my list of errands. Sigh (I hate errands). Turn on “truck.” Turn on WERN public radio. Oh! It’s Tchaikovsky’s Violin concerto in D (download it if you haven’t listened to it. NOW!). Stop car. Eyes get moist. Listen. Dusk sets in. Winter sky has wisps of grey cloud and a touch of peach. Eyes get moister. Wait ‘til it’s over. Drive home, toss list of errands aside. Turn on Wieniawski violin concerto (no.2), followed by Bruch's (no.1). Write emails to Poland.