I slipped into Washington DC Sunday night and into the Best Western Dulles. It was a nice room and I was ready to order up a fatty American meal to be delivered from the local pub but they didn't answer their phone. So I ended up snacking on popcorn and a Twix that the plane gave me. It was probably better that I didn't end my late night with potato skins and fried chicken tenders. Even better for my wallet.
Monday morning I got up way too early and rushed out to take a walk around Washington DC. I thought about how I was happier to come back to the US this time around than I was when I returned from the round the world trip. This last month away from home was a little rough mentally but I knew I had to take just a bit more time to get into the right mindset for tackling the next wave of life challenges. I stopped by the White House and grew excited about having a new President next year. I reflected by the reflecting pool. And I ran up the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and wiped the sweat off my brow as I snapped a few photos. I was tired. Tired of the pain. Tired of wandering. Tired of wondering.
I couldn't wait to head back to fresh clothes and the comfort of the familiar. But as I sat around Dulles Airport contemplating life, I noticed my flight gradually becoming more delayed over the course of a few minutes. Thankfully, I took this as a sign to have a word with the ticket counter. As a thunder storm filled the sky, making the planes outside seemingly disappear, the line of people behind me grew to about fifty people.
Thankfully, the storm passed in an hour and I was on my way to Chicago where I had to sprint across two airport terminals to catch my flight to San Jose. But now I'm back, my head screwed up from four time zones in four days. I have hope.