The View From Another Man’s Tub

Posted by mobile phone:

I love to travel. I’m one of those people that keeps a bag partially packed at all times, ready to go. I don’t like it as much when my lovely wife can’t go with me, but it’s still nice to get away for a couple of days. I might go nuts if it were weeks on end, though.

I’ve become crotchety in my old age. I’ve gotten to where I expect things to be a certain way or I get irritible. Irritable? Cranky. For instance, I keep a gallon of iced tea made in the fridge at home. Any time I like I can just waltz into the kitchen and grab a chilled, tasty beverage. Having my best firend available to scratch the itches I can’t reach is the perk of being home that I miss most. However, if she were with me on the road, that wouldn’t even be an issue. I guess the biggest issue all is the lack of familiarity. Just when you get used to being somewhere different, and you can finally relax, it’s time to up and head out to the next town. Then you have to start situating things just right and get everything sorted all over again. But no matter how you sort it, it’s still not home. It’s hard for me to relax properly when it is glaringly obvious that this bath tub is not my own.

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The View From Another Man’s Tub

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