Counting Blessings

I've now spent two nights in strange hotels, in cities I did not want to be in, with no change of clothes and having to scrounge a razor, a toothbrush, some toothpaste. But at least I have a bed to sleep in with a roof over my head, I imagine there are people in the same predicament as me who are sleeping in airports, who've not had a shower, who've not been able to brush their teeth or wash their hair.

I am trapped in some weird twilight. The world goes on around me: I talk to co-workers, the news tickers roll by on the TV, I send and receive email. But I am neither home nor somewhere else. I am just ... in-between.

In such a place, I only have one job: getting home. I could be writing copy to update our web page, but I have no interest in it. There are bills I should be reviewing and a strategy memo I should be writing, but it's just not my job now. My only job is GETTING HOME.

Third morning putting on these clothes ...