My hideout is not a hotel room on the beach. it’s not a cabin in the mountains. not a second home in the hills. nor a tiny house on the countryside.
this is my hideout. here on my blog. I come here for mental escape. right smack in the middle of the workday, while writing test cases and feeling like I’m stuck; no idea what the next format of driver’s license should be to test…wondering if I covered all the possible scenarios: My brain hurts and I need to get away, I come here. I come here in the middle of the night when everyone’s asleep and the house is quiet: I can’t sleep and my mind won’t slow down, I come here. I come here while patiently waiting in line at the deli: there are multiple conversations going on and it almost sounds like chaos. I come here.
This is my hideout. My place where I can be found by those searching for me if -and only if- I allow it.