Strange, very strange. Living in a hotel for 3 weeks is not normal and your perspectives get warped. At first, almost everything about a nice hotel is overly impressive. Then, over a few days your standards get raised and you notice that the oatmeal is not hot enough or the door keys don’t work right or some little thing. You need to consciously remind yourself that you are lucky to be in a place like this. The staff gets to know you, which is nice.
When I walked past the armed guard (we salute each other and say “hey boss”), today asked him “how are you?’ He retorted “happy!” with a broad smile. I stopped and turned around and asked him why was he happy and — with a pronounced movement of his hand/arm — he told me his wife is two months pregnant We chatted a while and it was nice to have a sincere human interaction. People around here are “real” like that. I miss home, but this could be a lot worse… a *lot* worse… in fact, I’m pretty lucky really.