This has been a long week. As I mentioned in my previous posts, I have had a countless stream of meetings, conference calls, meet-n-greets, lunches, dinners and town hall meetings. It's been up at 5:30, bed at 11, and lots of yawns in between. My rental car was a tiny, tiny Toyota Yaris that I had to fold my 6'3" self into each and every day.
It was a week of hot dinner dates with my book, of constantly answering questions of why it's been so long since I last visited HQ, and of dealing with my tad-bit-too-warm, smells-like-the-steakhouse-next-door hotel room.
It was a week of stupid questions and my constant struggle to answer them with a straight face.
It was also a week of revelations and big ideas, so I am returning to the home office with a new direction on a few issues. This week also allowed me to reconnect with the rest of my team, as opposed to only meet with them via conference call. From a professional standpoint, it's been a good week.
But, most importantly, a week up here gives me a new appreciation for the comforts of home and the contentment of being around my family. There is something a bit unsettling about living out of suitcase, eating meal after meal by yourself and waking up to an empty hotel room. It grounds you a bit and gives you a new appreciation for the little things at home that make it, well, home. The tick of the clock in the living room. The hum of the a/c that runs nonstop during the summer months. Feeling Laura next to me when I first wake up.
I know a lot of you are thinking "You've only been gone a week. Try being gone for [insert longer period of time here]." And to that I say, "it's all the same." A week. A month. A year. However long you're away, the fact remains that you're away. You're not at home. You're not with the ones you love. And that's always discomforting.
Babe, I'm heading home...