The other day, someone had asked me what I do for fun and I jokingly replied, “I blog, jog, and look up flights.”  When I stopped to think about it, I realized it wasn’t a joke. I’ve posted about the need to frequently travel in order to keep up morale in a draining country that takes its toll on your sanity. It’s a luxury I know, but work trips and breathers abroad have made adulting here a little more bearable.

Each trips’ afterglow lasts less time than the trip before and I find my Expedia’s scratchpad filling with destination options every week. I don’t book or confirm anything. I’m subscribed to Booking.com, Jetsetter, and other travel newsletters/blogs. Being bombarded by targeted ads that know I’m susceptible to DEPARTING FROM BEIRUT even though, when abroad, I’m a cheerleader trying to lure everyone into planning a visit to BEY.

It used to be that you would travel, return, and feel refreshed. Ready for another round after being up against the ropes. However, I return with pent up resentment and annoyance at the stagnation that is supposed to be home. I haven’t had a “it’s good to be back” in a while. Keeping my thoughts busy planning the opening of our new branch and my body exhausted via marathon training, I’ve come to terms with what keeps me here. It’s what has me rooted and hoping this place doesn’t burst into garbage-flames but those two halves of my life are also what distract me from the Lebanon-problems that are out of my control.

I don’t like being a downer and I don’t like myself when the travel bug starts getting under my skin. I do wish that it wouldn’t visit so often but maybe it likes the Beirut atmosphere more than I do lately so it’s been sticking around. Only time will tell.