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I’ve got a 16 night reservation in the Quality Inn. That’s pretty much living in a hotel. For a while it’s nice to come home (yes, I’m calling it home) in the evening and find that someone has made your bed, given you clean towels, and straightened things up a bit. I’ve been here long enough to know that there are at least two different housekeepers who clean my room, and I can tell which one it is by the way they fold my wash cloth.
Where was I going with this?
Eventually, you start to miss some real tastes of home. I miss my own bed, my truck, and my usual routine. Oh yeah. I’ve eaten at Burger King at least once a day, usually twice, for the past week.
I think I’m off to the Weinerschnitzel now.