I really enjoy my new job so far- the travel (Ithaca, NY and Anaheim, CA just in the last two weeks), the flexibility, having co-workers and supervisors available by phone but not constantly on my case, and the respect I get for my ideas and contributions. But I must admit, there are times when I think if I have to lug a suitcase one more foot through the airport, I might scream.
That’s how I knew it was time to get home on Thursday night. The woman in front of me on the plane was playing a video game with the sound on and the pinging noise made me want to kick her chair. The guy behind me was snoring so loud that the seat felt like it was vibrating. And every time I got comfortable, the guy next to me wanted to take his coat off or put it back on again. My happy-go-lucky traveler persona was rapidly turning into a shrill shrew capable of knocking over toddlers to get to the overhead bins.
By the time I loaded myself into the house, I realized that what I really wanted was a cocktail. Or three. So I turned back around to the neighborhood watering hole, bellied up to a good stiff bourbon, and dragged myself home in time to get a few hours before I had to go to work on Friday.
When I’m away, I enjoy eating out, seeing the sights, and not having to clean my hotel room. But when I’m home, there’s my own pillow, the quilt my grandmother made on the couch, a hot cup of the kind of tea I like after work, and the joys of the DVR when I can’t stay up late enough to watch Rachel Maddow at 11.
I guess the grass is always greener, but lately I’ve been missing the comforts of home- my messy, messy home. Well, and contemplating having Merry Maids come do a pre-spring cleaning, so I can get that hotel-away-from-home clean without having to spend all my free time getting it. Now to figure out where to hide the laundry I haven’t unpacked yet if they come….