I miss my bed

Of the last 14 days, I have spent only 4 of them sleeping in my own bed.  It would be cool if we could take it with us on short trips.  We were in OR for a few days (2 hotel nights, 3 nights at Will and Christina’s, 1 night on a plane), then home for 3 nights, then up to CT for the weekend (2 nights in PA, 1 in CT), then home for 1 night, and then I came to VA for work, and tonight is my second (and last) night in a hotel.  Don’t get me wrong – none of those nights have been uncomfortable (except the night on the plane), and every single shower I’ve had in hotels and other people’s houses has been better than the shower at home, but – my bed.  My stuff.  Not living out of a bag.

Actually, I slept terribly last night.  Noises from the hallway, noises from the parking lot, noises from the room next door (sick and crying child, I think), went to bed late and got up early – I’m surprised I made it through the day.  I tried the hotel gym this morning.  Ran a mile and a half on the treadmill, did some weights.  They keep that room a bit too warm for me.  The thermostat was set to 70, and it was a muggy, sweaty 70.  I didn’t end up doing much, but I suppose it was better than nothing.  I’ll try again tomorrow.  Tonight, I read.

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