I'm heading out of town for a few days this week, and always before a big trip- a case of "Travel-Stress-Syndrome" sets in.
You all know what I'm talking about. I have a checklist of things I need to add to my master checklist. I am a week ahead at work just so I don't get behind. My house is clean for my house-sitters, Maizy has enough food to last her a month. Laundry is done, packing has begun. Things are slowly but surely checked off of the master list.
The thing is- I love travel. I love the act of traveling, I love seeing new places. I often think my dream job would be to travel and write for a living. OK, not very original, I know- I mean, who wouldn't love to have coffee in Paris on Monday and wine in Barcelona on Friday and get paid to write about it?
The funny part is that in the days before I leave- I never want to leave. I spend a little extra loving time on the scripts I so carefully prepare for the broadcasts that will go on- just fine- without me. I walk around my house, soaking in all of the nooks and crannies I love. I play with Maizy a little bit longer. I breathe the air a little more deeply, spend a little bit longer in the shower, cook myself dinner in my own kitchen. I think to myself, I could never leave this house and be happy. I already miss home- my work, my routine, my life- and I haven't even left yet.
When I used to travel a lot for work, this travel-stress-syndrome would come full circle the morning of my trip. I would wake up later than I wanted- not enough time for that long shower I craved. I would arrive at the airport and promptly cry in front of my coworkers. I could never explain why- I always told them I just felt rushed- but now I can spot it; that good ol' TSS rearing its ugly head.
The act of leaving home for somewhere else excites me and unsettles me all at once.
Because at the end of the day- no matter where my adventures take me...
... And oh, from the very bottom of my heart do I hope they take me far...
... No matter where I go...
... I always want to come home.