Homeward Bound.

A few nights ago, I had a dream that I was driving with my friends on a road trip with no destination. I'm quite sure the wind was even running perfectly through my hair. While driving, I came to the realization that I was not wearing any shoes, that I was not wearing a bra, and that I forgot my deodorant. Instead of being the wild and free girl those details entail, we quickly found a Walmart and I was standing in the aisle embarrassed to pick out deodorant in front of my friend because I wear Old Spice....

Reality met my dream. It found my inner curiosity and longing for a free spirit and told it to go home. It made me wonder. Was it the movies that made us think driving in the car on a long stretch of highway is so romantic? Or that doing a cartwheel in the middle of a quiet street at night makes us feel free and washes all our cares away? I'm not trying to be the pessimistic realist here, because trust me, I'm middle ground with this one. I desperately want all those things to be the best medicine. And I think they are for some people, and even for me at times. But I think my wanderlust is drowned out by my longing to be grounded. To go home to my little living room, which is attached to my even littler kitchen, sparkling clean, with a chocolate bar always waiting in the cupboard above the sink, with my cat purring and husband waiting to light up and say, "hi baby!"