Settled.

After lunch yesterday, a colleague asked me a simple question: “when are you going home?”

To which I answered, simply, “in a few hours, can’t stay too late today.”

Apparently, I misunderstood. My colleague was asking me about my impending trip to Toronto — my trip “home” — that I have planned later this week.

This small exchange got me thinking: when did my apartment in DC become “home” for me? What exactly makes a place “home” for anybody?