My Home Away From Home

As soon as I get to my hotel room or the equivalent when I'm on vacation, I need to unpack.  It's a compulsive thing, and I'm a bit antsy until I can get every last item out from the crevices of my Samsonite.  I didn't even realize I did this until I started vacationing with John and he started to laugh at my desire to unpack as soon as we entered our room.

Most people don't do that?  I guess lots of people will just live out of their suitcases, but not me.  I unpack even if I'm staying for one night.  It just makes it feel like I'm at my home away from home.

Trust me, this St. Martin villa is nothing like my home in California. For one thing, we don't have it decorated in a bright green and white motif.

I also don't spend my days napping with this view.

There are no wicker lamps hanging in threes above our outdoor glass dining room table.

And none of my furniture looks like a coral-branch-spiderweb thingie.

I do have one of these at home though.  With him it always feels like home.  Particularly when he's making fun of me for unpacking.