wanderlust

I am the master of the sassy professional letter to clients and attorneys when I am good. I am responsible for cutting off power to undeserving clients when I am bad. Apparently when I am bad, I am very very bad.

This travel thing is very exciting. Browsing packing lists and travel sites is habit forming, probably because I love shopping and daydreaming just about equally. Towels and panties and bras that dry overnight? Sexy stretchy skirts with hidden stash pockets made with wrinkle-proof, stain resistant fabric? Why don't I have these already? These are not merely the needs of travelers. Towels are heavy, nasty things that do not dry overnight. Life without the warm luxury of machine-dried towels has revealed this everyday thing to me.

I am thoroughly thrilled about this trip. I don't want plans to return. I don't want plans upon return. I will ride buses and smell bad and get cranky and sleep in a tent and not wear makeup and wander unfamiliar streets and wonder where I will spend the next night and see amazing buildings and landscape and not hear English and wash my clothes in a sink and feel wonder and eat hot fresh homemade tortillas all day long. I will have something to write about other than this perpetual ennui. I will reevaluate. I may not come back.