Boston, Chicago, Phoenix, Nashville, Philadelphia, Dallas, Atlanta, San Francisco, Los Angeles. I’m losing track of what city I’m in. My body has learned to forget time zones, just go to bed, get up, eat at the same times regardless of where the sun is in the sky. Ask the same questions over and over and over and over and over and over and over. Ask the same questions over and over and over and over and over and over and over. My brain is turning off at times, at sunset as I have these conversations with people about things I could care less about. This has been my life lately.
I’m on the road for work, living in hotel rooms that all look the same and conducting focus groups and interviews. Last week in the middle of one interview I thought to myself, is this how I’m summing up my life? Is this how I’m spending my time?
For work it’s not all that bad. I’m paid ok. I’m not a slave to my boss. It’s good. At the same time I guess I’m looking for meaning in life, or at least again trying to sort through and organize the chaos. I’m talking to people constantly but all it does is alienate me from them. I find I have less in common with the majority than I thought.
It’s good. I’m not depressed, I almost feel like this time, this travel, these mindless weeks of being a talking head are giving me more time to reflect on myself and my life. How I am situated in the universe. It’s zen in a way, so busy that my mind clears. I’m not hounded by a too do list. I’m just living.