I get excited if I have a planned destination. It could be on an airplane to somewhere far away and exciting or it could be a car ride to a locale right within reach but still making me feel like I’m… Somewhere else.
Checking into the hotel, especially if it is really beautiful, top-notch or quaint with lots of colors and eclectic furniture and accessories is always a thrill. I feel like a bonus version of myself, extending all of my wannabe characteristics.
The mini size shampoos in the shower and the lotion… Discovering the spa-like smell of them and feeling like I’m in a boutique. Sitting on the edge of the bed and experiencing the feel of a different mattress… looking out the window at the sights and listening for the sounds and wondering where I will run the following morning.
And of course there is the cuisine. The thought of tasting something out of the ordinary thrills me and makes me feel like a world traveler.
But when it’s all over, the trip is complete, the fun has been had, the work has been done and the people have been met, it’s time to go home.
And every single time I do, the excitement and anticipation of walking on my own tile floor, grabbing a water out of my own refrigerator, turning on the TV and being familiar with the remote control and the channel numbers, and spreading out on my own couch watching a movie and being able to get up to go to the bathroom without tripping over a suitcase…
… and the ultimate…
… taking a bubble bath in my own bathroom which I adore cannot be beat.
I’m glad I made this place my home.
jensumandthensome 