The flight was less than seven hours, a red-eye from DC to Casablanca. I even had the great honor of being able to sprawl across three seats because by luck my row had not sold out. That afforded me three hours of low-quality sleep. Three hours of sleep provides you with just enough energy to stand in passport control for over an hour, but not quite enough energy to remember how to get to the train station from baggage claim. Missed that first train. Whatever.
What did it take me to get here, in front of a computer with thoughts?
It took me some crying, a good video chat, dinner with friends, time in prayer, twelve hours of sleep, two cups of coffee, a load of laundry, two episodes of something on Netflix, and a banana.
It was good to be in the United States.
It is good to be back in Morocco.
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