Home?

One’s perception of home is amazing when one travels. I feel like everything back home is moving at a snail’s pace and everything takes forever to do. I am basically spending my days EAGERLY awaiting a response from someone. And as soon as I get it, I fire back a response within two minutes. Then I stare back at my computer or phone… watching, judging, waiting.

It is a quick way to lose your mind. I am 90% not who I used to be. The remaining 10% consists of my teeth, my belt, and one pair of socks (my least favorite, and the only reason they haven’t changed is because I would rather wear dirty socks than those).

Everything else is different. My eyes are clouded over from the sun and humidity with bags under them. My clothes have a new scent from the hotel laundry service. My shoes have picked up the odor of the streets and tarmac I have become all too familiar with. My skin is burned. My hair is scented with novelty shampoo that tries to imitate a scent I imagine Lawrence of Arabia must have originated. I can’t remember what green looks like. Yellow has taken on a whole new meaning to me. I have a newfound appreciation for khakis… a durable, light pant.

It will be good to go home. I can’t wait to hear a normal American accent and it not register in my brain as something foreign.