A Mommy Blog About Raising Men, Not Boys.
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Monday, April 04, 2016

The Thing About Work Travel

I don't actually like to leave my family to travel. I HATE not being surrounded by my chaotic world of children and annoying husband. (He and I annoy the shit out of each other despite how much we love each other. I think that comes from being together so long.) I miss all the things that annoy me about all of them the moment I walk out the door.

It always reminds me of the line from "I Love You To Death" - which goes "I miss him so much, I forget everything I hate about him."

That's how I feel from the moment I step out the door until the moment I return.

Except for the one thing, I love to travel.
It's not the leaving or being alone that I covet, althought there is some value in that sometimes. There is some peace and self recharging that happens at thirty five thousand feet for sure.
I can drink coffee and no one is beside me stealing drinks, which is surely a luxury in this life of mine. I bitch about that a lot, but it annoys the living hell out of me. However, given the option I would always take having small humans to steal my coffee vs. not.
What I love is the sensory experience of being in a new place, or visiting one that isn't home. I want to soak up this new place on the Earth, it's sights and sounds, it's flavors. I want to experience it all.
I think I kind of walk around like a slack jawed tourist, finding amusement in childish things but I don't really care, it's way too much fun just to enjoy everything as it comes to me than to pretend to not.
People totally stared at me taking these pictures. DO NOT CARE.

That's the fun of it.

I do actually have to do work, and as it turns out my job is usually exactly the same I'm just sitting in a different place which is fine, I kind of think that's cool in a modern world sort of way.
But all in all, no matter how much fun I'm having being solo and having adventures I'm missing my humans a lot.

No matter how exotic your foot flush is, there's no place like home.



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