The Building Museum on a warm, sunny day.

When the day is long, the air is cold, and the bag is heavy (last night’s contents: piles of work, a newspaper, magazine, shoes and gym clothes) the Judiciary Square Metro stop is the natural choice. It’s five minutes away from the office.

But last night I pushed on to Metro Center. It’s a mile or so down the road: Down E Street to Ninth Street to F Street to Thirteenth and almost to G. I walk past the Building Museum and the National Portrait Gallery, through Chinatown and Penn Quarter, get almost as far as the White House before I head down to the train.

I catch snatches of conversation (“Well, there’s that Italian place down the street…”),  spot the remnants of a farmer’s market, see scores of tourists milling around the Spy Museum.

My bag is heavy, I think of the errands I have to run before I get home. But I’m glad I chose this route. I was tired when I started. But I’m not anymore.