Holding On
What helps the beach state remain? I’m asking myself that question today, as I feel it slipping away.
I was off to a good start on the way home: a plane so empty that each passenger had his or her own row of seats.
Then a late-day landing that showcased the Washington Monument and the Capitol, the graceful spans across the Potomac, the compact graciousness of the place.
But today there was the long commute into Arlington, the work call that came in before I reached the office, the emails, the to-dos that piled up when I was gone.
Welcome back, they say. I try not to listen. I hold onto the beach state for dear life!