I’m a homebody.
That’s not to say I’m a hermit. I can be – and have been – very happy in places other than my own home (especially if that place is warm and occupied by people I love). I like to visit other places, I enjoy spending time in friends’ houses, and I have liked other places I’ve lived.
When it all comes down to it, though, I am happiest at home. THIS home, in particular. Chez Chili is pretty much my dream house, and while I wish it sat on a more temperate acre, I have experienced the happiest years of my life in this little contemporary cape. The place feels good to me.
Apart from that, I’m happiest in a classroom. I love the energy of an engaged class, I love the connections I make with the students, and I love thinking (and the feeling of synergy when that thinking all comes together to reveal a new insight or realization). I love the work that I do, and I’m desperately eager to get back to it.
Either at home, or at the ocean, or with my Ya-Yas, or with Compass, or with my family, or… You know, I’m happiest wherever or whenever I’m with people I love – myself included.
In a great restaurant with a very nice bottle of wine.