Going Home

Because of the job I'm on, I spent the week at the client's office instead of at our own office.  Being unfamiliar with the area, I used my intuition to take random routes home after work.

By chance, I came upon a "familiar" street.  I've never drove on this street before, nor did I know where it is until now.

I can remember the exact words of that voicemail message.

That was the one time that I made use of my special privileges.

There's something special about waiting for someone to come home, about opening the door for them, about being there to greet them.

Especially when it's not your house, but still your "home".