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i've become something of a modern nomad. 

there are little pieces of me scattered everywhere that kinda get tossed around in the wind.  even my job requres me to set up camp in different places for a month or two at a time.  it's difficult to function under constant adaptation and i can feel myself slipping sometimes.  time with myself seems to be at the mercy of other's schedules and needs.

i have no central location that i can always return to and let go.    no place to call my own, not even a closet.  the closest place i have to a home base is my car rory, and she's on wheels.  but really, everything i need in order to live is kept in the trunk.  everything but a few important people, who i probably wouldn't want to keep locked up in my trunk anyhow.

so home turns into the people i care about, and wherever they are.   so i guess it doesn't really matter if i don't have a toothbrush there.  i got one in my backpack.