I can't believe that less than a week ago I was in the biggest city in the U.S. and now I'm in a city where they've got country music programmed on radio "speed dial."
I'm in Indianapolis on a business trip for a few days. I had a mini panic attack my first night in the Bean -- our neighborhood is quiet. Too quite, I thought. Quiet enough to become a prime setting for a "Dateline Mystery" or "20/20" episode.
I totally believe that this trip to an even smaller city is God's way of just deflating me from the rush of the Apple. Case in point: When the Starbucks barista tried to engage in small talk, I gave him a dirty "you're a stranger" look. In the Apple, that look would've earned me an A+. Then I realized, I'm in the Midwest, and people are nice because they are nice. And people can be nice, because they are nice.
Drop the 'tude, burb girl.