I worked yesterday doing a morning presentation for parents of kids with disabilities. It was a wild few hours because I tried to fit a presentation in amongst a thousand questions. I love that kind of energy. I love the way one question becomes another direction. The time flew by and suddenly, the hall was empty and Joe was quietly packing books away.
We drove away, both tired, talking about mundane, real life things. What to have for supper. When to book WheelTrans for the trip home. Life on the road can seem unreal and artificial - topics that force us to remember that we have another life where we are teathered to the ground by the realities of responsibilities, relationships and routine are comforting.
After a quiet cup of tea (a standard for me after a talk) and the shopping done, we went to the hotel to read and watch television. We like to stay at Residence Inn hotels because we get a little kitchen where we can make our own meals. This hotel has a separate bedroom off a small front room so it's quite homey.
But last night, something kept me awake all night. Thoughts came unbidden, worries followed thereafter, after the first toss, I knew to expect turning. Now I'm up and into a day that's going to be listless.
What with cut curbs and wide doors, how come they can't ramp sleep?