TRAVEL

I love to travel. The second I have a suitcase packed, I lose thirty pounds. Until I'm back, there are things I can't do, can't be expected to do. Travel gives me excuses. I love to travel.


Travel exhausts me. My trips are unfocused, structured. Go here, there, uptown, across bridges. Check longings off my list. Add others. Walk avenues. Get blisters. 


I follow my guidebook, I follow my nose. Travel exhausts me. 


Travel is not relaxing. Travel is chocolate concoctions, photos at strange angles, colorful shoes, gasps in quiet museums.

Imagine another life; travel is hard work.
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