Out of idle curiosity I totaled up the number of days this year I’ve been (or will be; there’s more to come before the end of the year) traveling, according to my calendar.
86.
A month of that is parental visiting (split into two two-week chunks, once in spring, once in fall, as longtime readers will perhaps recall). Then there are the library conventions, the comics conventions, the writing retreats, the author appearances, and oh, yeah, the part where you just go someplace because you want to hang out there, you know, with friends, and maybe experience culture or something.
All told, a little under 25 percent of 2007.
It feels like more.
How much of this year have y’all traveled? Moving counts as travel; it’s like traveling cubed, because you don’t go home, or rather you do, but it isn’t home yet, you have to make it home.
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