For the past two days, I’ve been locked in a house with two screaming toddlers and a couple still very much in love. There’s a backyard filled with snow and a room stacked with mini kitchenettes and playhouses for little girls. Its about a 4-5 minute drive to an empty strip mall with old people sitting in a Starbucks drinking coffee because they don’t really need to do anything else in the day. Where am I?
Talk about a world that is the complete opposite of my existence.
This is rehab. Its a place where I can sleep for a million hours (if only the day had a million) and where my devices are shutdown, with only 3-4 people who actually have access to my local number. I spend my afternoons making little snacks while watching this 7-monthÂ cherubÂ attempting to stand so she can dance as she giggles each time.
I’ve spent an hour running/walkingÂ on the treadmill (i’m so glad I packed my Nike+LunarGlides)Â while reading an inspiring book from Seth Godin.Â After dinner, I spendÂ another hour rebuffing my French on one of these iTouch apps. I’m in bed by 9:30pm, sending a few emails out and getting ready to read another book.
I don’t remember if I’ve ever had this in my life. It’s all so new to me and yet it feels so necessary to have before I fly back to Asia for another yearÂ of my hustle and bustle.
Before I enter the beast that I once knew, I’m glad returning to this city with priorities: family first, then friends.