Last night, as I was falling asleep, alone in a small basement room, 2403 miles from home, I did not foresee that today would be that great. I was exhausted from getting an hour of sleep in almost 48 hours. I went straight from the airport yesterday morning, after a challenging two-hour bus trip and a five-hour plane ride with a toddler, and charged into a full day of work, with long meetings and bad coffee. And I usually don't even drink coffee. Then came unpacking, endless phone calls, putting my daughter to sleep in an unfamiliar bed. And I knew I had my plate full today too.
So I went to sleep, weary and wary.
And I woke up this morning to my daughter patting me lovingly on the face, giggling. The sun was reaching by her through the window, also caressing my cheek. Already, the day was full of promise. After stuffing myself (food always tastes better when you don't make it yourself) and kissing my little girl good-bye, I drove off to work. I actually left a house—a home—and drove to another house—an office—and worked, there. After spending most of the last few years sleeping and working in the same house, this feels like heaven to me. Being surrounded with other people that are talking, scurrying about, smiling, picking their noses, listening. Looking into your eyes. Do you realize how precious that is? How much of a social animal we really are? I mean, my daughter's company is great, I wouldn't want to trade that for anything. But so is quenching the thirst for using words that contain more syllables than two. Then, I got phonecalls from people that were telling me good things. Like asking me to meet them. In the flesh. Not just talk to them on the phone.
The sunrays kept landing all around me.
I can swear to you that the colors are more vivid here now. The air smells sweet. The light is brighter. Everything is so vibrant. And fast. Maybe it's just city speed. Maybe not. At the end of the day, I got a phone call from a TV news magazine host. She chose to ignore my question about how she got my number and cut to the chase: I was a tech lawyer, right? I live in America but flew over here yesterday, right? I am an authority on legal aspects regarding defamation responsibility for content publising on the web, right? I hardly got in my "Uh, yes", "Yes, but how did you..." and "Well, hardly, actually..." before she said, politely but firmly, that she needed me to show up in make-up an hour later. For a live broadcast. So I did. And it was sort of fun. I have done maybe a dozen or so TV interviews in my career, but this was my first in almost three years. So I felt a bit rusty. But luckily not nervous. I used to perspire so much before doing those that it felt like I was taking a shower. One time, the make-up person said she wanted to put some extra-waterproof make-up on me. Which gave me a kind of pale-blue hue. Not a good experience. But this one was.
Then I went home. And there was my daughter. Who flew around my neck, all smiles. She had apparently run to the TV as soon as I came on, and hugged the thing, yelling "dadda! dadda!" I actually hugged the TV sometimes when I was a kid, but that was because it was my best friend. But I digress.
Now I'm back at work, and I'm actually looking forward to tomorrow. And the next day, even more. And the days that follow. My heart is so grateful for these days. And the promises they fulfill.
I can't wait for more of them.