Usually, being on the road does not bother me. Whether a job is long or short, I pride myself on finding ways to enjoy my time there. In cities with friends (hi, DC!) I find time to get dinner or go work out with them. In cities with tons to do, I explore new restaurants at night. In places where there may not be much of interest, I find joy in settling into a routine, and take that opportunity to catch up on gym and sleep time. This project is a combination or all three. I met a great new friend through one of my girls from home (thanks, Jen!), there are enough restaurants in this college town to keep me interested, but I can come "home," work out, and order food when I want to. Things really could be much, much worse - trust me.
That said, when I was packing up on Sunday night, I was overwhelmed with dread and sadness about being on the road. Why can't I just stay home this week and see friends whom I haven't seen in ages? Why can't I cook any of Chrissy Teigen's recipes from the book I just had delivered? Why can't I be in my own bed, with my own gym, with all of my stuff? A decent per diem can only make up for so much, after all.
And so, at 4:15 Monday morning, when I was about to zip up my relatively empty carry on, I decided that the extra space would go to something that would make me happy*:
When I unpacked upon arriving at my hotel last night, I opened my bag and was so happy to have that little bit of comfort with me, childish as it may be. And you know what? I woke up this morning in a fantastic mood. Happy Tuesday, friends!
* and no, it's not the flip flops.