In a few hours (10 hours to be exact), I'll be taking to the friendly skies to visit Tennessee. I think I've been waiting for this day since...oh...Christmas. Don't get me wrong. I love Seattle and am proud to call it my home fifty weeks out of the year. There are just some days where I really wish I was back in what I half-jokingly call "the promised land."
My supervisor and I were talking about our philosophy of travel and the idea of 'going home' a couple months ago. He asked me when I really feel like I'm home when I visit TN. Is it landing at the airport in Nashville or actually being in the town I grew up in? My answer was: when I walk in the front door of my house. I love to travel, but there's nothing like walking in the front door and flopping down on the couch like I've done a thousand times before.
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