Sanctuary

When I leave the house in the morning, I fight traffic for 40 minutes. Racing down the road, I dodge trucks filled to the brim with rocks and tiny sports cars zipping inches in front of my bumper just to get a few inches ahead.

I trudge across the parking lot to a dimly lit, grey office. People are staring at their computers with sour expressions or snarling into their cell phones. Well, with the exception of Libby. She's fallen asleep in front of the screen, her hand still moving on the mouse as she doses.

The e-mails and phone calls begin, and my mind wonders. In my mind, I'm working on my latest story at home while the babies dose at my feet. Bread is baking in the oven and birds chirp outside.

But there are articles to write and stories to edit.

A few hours later, I take a walk outside after lunch. The sky is grey and the air is sticky with humidity. One of the girls in the office is annoyed by another co-worker; another by the boss. No one wants to be here and the air smells like a mixture of re-heated frozen dinners, fast food and cigarettes. Libby is twirling around as she giggles about something over the weekend.

The next phone interview begins. In my mind, I'm not listening to the presumptuous bar owner on the other end of the phone. In my mind, I'm swinging outside on a playground under a sunny sky. The babies frolic in the grass and I sample a bowl of peanut butter ice cream.

But there is a co-worker's goodbye gift to work on and a party to plan.

After my snack, I take another stroll outside. The air is stifling and sweat runs down my neck. People have quit talking about their weekends and have moved on to bragging about themselves. Everyone is important; everyone is special. Outside, the butterflies dance around flowers and my feet twirl across the ground.

I sneak a story in on my laptop.

The roads are congested and the radio blares bad songs. When I step through the door, the babies scamper among shredded newspaper...among other things. I've got to hurry to get dinner started and charge my camera batteries for work.

But in my mind, I'm still in yesterday. I'm still puttering around the house, working on query letters and stories. I'm still fixing dinner and snuggling with the puppies on the couch. I'm still twirling around the living room.

And as I cook dinner, a sense of that calm comes back. By the time I have danced until my toes tingle and am snuggled up with Ben in the puppies, I am exactly where I want to be.

Until tomorrow, when I'm forced to leave my sanctuary again.