I have lost count of how many times I have flown to Washington, DC for work. It’s an easy trip.
Yet I still have a tinge of pre-travel anxiety. What have I forgotten? Nothing I couldn’t buy. Will Peter be OK without me? I’m afraid so. All will be fine as long as to quote him, “the blondes are out of the house before you come home.”
Once I am in a cab on my way to the airport, it’s like being in a whole new zone. My thoughts are exclusively on my destination.
Sleeping in my hotel room after a full day of meetings earlier this week, I woke in the middle of the night. I was sure I heard Peter’s even breathing beside me and started to reach out for him, forgetting momentarily that he was a plane ride away.
I know he misses me, despite his warning about the blondes. After all these years, I still can’t wait until the cab pulls up to our house and I see that all is well.
No sign of blondes.