Good God, I’m tired of traveling. I’ve been on the road for my job for roughly two weeks of each month for the last three and a half years. Stick a fork in me, I’m done.

This trip seems longer than usual. Maybe it’s because I managed to get home over the weekend last month, I don’t know. This one just feels interminable. I’m ready to be home. Really ready.

All morning long, I’ve had a line from Bruce Springsteen’s Valentine’s Day running through my head: They say he travels fastest who travels alone / But tonight I miss my girl mister tonight I miss my home.

I’m ready to be home.