When the plane took off from a steamy Phnom Penh runway, it was a few minutes after midnight, February 27. That was almost 35 hours ago — and it’s still February 27.

I have nothing against February 27. It’s a perfectly fine day. Nearing the end of winter, promise of spring to come.

But by the time I turn off the light tonight, I will have had about 40 hours worth of February 27, and that will be more than enough.

Fifty-six hours ago I was interviewing a trafficking survivor as the sun set behind a palm tree.

Now I’m back in Virginia, glad to be home — and waiting for February 27 to end!