Home is relative

I feel like I should write something while things are fresh on my mind.  But really, my mind is more mush than fresh.  I am just happy at the prospect of spending more than 12 hours at home for the first time in 3 weeks.  I’m glad to not be sharing a camp cabin bathroom with 15 other women, and I’m thankful that I’m no longer typhoon stranded on an island with 2 slot machines per capita, and thrilled that being sent to the wrong city in Vietnam is now a story to be told instead of reality. 

So, imperialism, family visits and stupid travel agents will have to wait.  For now, its bed time!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s