I guess you might call me an escape artist. I'm great at disappearing, and I do it often. Happily.
Travel is my usual getaway route, and that usually comes with a few things to write about. I haven't been saying much lately because I haven't been going anywhere, at least not physically. But travel plans or not, I can't just live in the real world, in Seattle, in an existence that I'm not thrilled about. So I mentally get away instead, periodically take time off in my own little hermit world.
On the weekend I did just that: hid out at home, had a lovely couple of days away from society. Then last night I put on some random 'Top Gear' via Netflix streaming, and realized that I had seen the episode before... when I was in London.
It pretty much rocked my world. My two paths to freedom collided. It's a strange feeling when watching a TV program takes you back to the insomniac late night in a shoebox hotel room, somewhere far beyond the sea. Especially when you're seeking that same type of disconnection from your life by staying at home. It threw me.
I didn't know what to do with the sensation, so I shut off the television and curled up with a book in bed, feeling oddly off kilter.
I'm just glad I have some travel coming up in the next few weeks, because I really need a break. From everything.
