Life on the B-list

Letters From the Home Front

Sometime this past summer I unplugged. That’s not to say that I booked a one-way trip to someplace isolated and lonely — like a Tibetan monastery or my kitchen. Rather, I put my job description on a diet.

I was feeling a little overwhelmed. It was the perfect storm of "overextended." On the home front, "Chez Berg" had been transformed seemingly overnight into a two-bit motor lodge with a really bad room-service menu — a halfway house for the migrating, college-bound.

They came, they left, came back and left again. And somewhere in between, my soon-to-be-empty nest overfloweth; I am pretty sure Bed Bath & Beyond