LA to Germany, via Paris (city of love?)

Flying. What else do I do? LA to Freiburg, Germany via Paris. 15+ hours in route. I should be working. What else do I do? But part of my new found philosophy: stop, reflect and think. Funny I’m stopping, reflecting, and thinking before I’ve even started. Whatever. International flights rock because of the alcohol factor. I’ve just started sipping a French Syrah that Air France provides in mini- little bottles. It’s delicious and the flight will pass quickly with the sleep it induces. Now if the food would just come…

On to the good stuff. I’m flying away from Los Angeles and back to work. Back to the second half of an investigation I’m doing that may or may not be worth a slightest smidgen of time. But I will play the role of the good auditor and do my duty. And do it to the best of my ability so I can earn my home return back to Los Angeles in ten days. Ten days! Isn’t that spectacular!?

Ten days to go back. Back to my family. Back to play with Kicker and watch him slowly start teething and maybe getting some hair. Back to sitting on the porch and have breakfast with Mom and Dad and let them have excessively valid and insightful opinions about my life, and the world in general. Back to long walks with Gracie early in the morning before anyone else is up. And most importantly of all, back to Love. Waking up with him. Talking about nothing with him. Talking not at all with him. Telling him my stories. Hearing his. Driving with him to nowhere. Making the best love I’ve ever made. Re-learning how to do “us”. Figuring it out and making it good. That’s the deal. That’s what I’m in for. I know that we’re remaining undefined (ie single and not togher). But when we’re physically around one another, we just are. We don’t know how to be any other way.

We had a spectacular weekend. One of those, back to comfort weekends. He heals me. He didn’t even know he was doing it. But I’m ready to go back now. I could have done it alone, yes. I’m sure. With lots of sleep and running and reflection. Instead I opted for emotional sanctity with great sex, long stares, a non-judging ear, and reminder of the passion in things other than work. The emotional release. The details of what we did, are not important. Gracie was there. What else matters?

Work. Right. Back to it. I’ll open my e-mail box now. I’ll make a pitch to appease my new manager (who I’m very much looking forward to, actually). I’ll use one of my mother’s recommendations for risk assessment and approach to this second ½ of the audit. I’ll do the best I can. For ten days. Until I get to come home again.