The Life of a Business Traveler

It is a strange sensation. I am like an outsider watching in through a glass wall, and I am the only one that is aware of the wall. Knowing it will end today makes such a huge difference. I could actually step out of the presence and float.

This reminds me of a previous life, wakes up a different me. I can feel the aggression wakes up inside my heart, yawned and gleefully tiptoed out of the fog. Step back into my old skin. I wonder if this is how superman feels when he puts on his suite. Or how spider man feels when he starts to swing across Manhattan.

Toronto is still that graceful city in my memory. The lake sparkles. Glass skyscrapers shine.

Hotel clerk¡¯s over-enthusiastic smile still makes me uncomfortable. Hotel room still fails to impress me. Long distance travel, connection via O¡¯Hare airport, isle seat, fellow business traveler¡¯s only free hand holding a cup of Starbucks, laptop briefcase, newspaper in the morning, fancy dinner paid by red-faced non-stop talking senior VP, young and lively consultants working to the wee hour of the morning, all these remain the same. A world rotates happily along as I had settled into a real life. Fascinating. I wonder which world is more important in God¡¯s eyes. One is the lubrication for the capitalist machine; another is the source or the goal.