Starting the second week of work away from home.  Constant travel tries to suspend you from really relaxing.  At night, you aren’t working anymore, but you can’t go home.  Braincogs keep spinning for lack of anything better to do.

I’m trying out a theory about how to combat this problem.  It occured to me when I thought of all the stories of mega-rock stars that demand specific bottles of water and certain colors of towels.  To most people, it comes off as random and spoiled.  But most people get to sleep in the same bed two nights in a row, and know how to find a grocery store without having to ask.

My theory is: the random request for “1-liter Dasani, cool but not cold” is a very lost person reaching out for consistency.  And having those little familiarities makes it easier to deal with the fact you sleep in a different bed every night.

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That’s why I love Red Roof Inns.  They are the least alien motel I’ve ever stayed in.  Moderately-priced for my budget, always have guaranteed Wifi, and their rooms have a luxurious, spacious feel.  (I’m going to steal one of their desks one day)

I spent the weekend at the RRI in Flint, MI, and was lucky enough to find one in Grand Rapids.  And I think my theory is correct: it doesn’t feel like home, but it doesn’t feel like I’ve left, either.