One thing I should add (to what you might read in my column in this week’s issue) is that I am completely terrified of the idea of leaving my new place after 7 a.m. I’m worried that I’d get stuck in traffic so bad it might make my head explode, so I take great pains to get up and out of the house by 7 at the latest (usually at 6:45 or so). I know I’m totally overreacting, but that’s how worried I get about being stuck in traffic.

The early mornings also add up and start to take their toll on my sleeping habits. I’ve gone home at about 3 p.m. from work most days lately, and I’ve almost fallen asleep on the drive home.

I, too, wondered where your new secret lair is. And, I must say, crossing the street does not constitute a commute but, if that's what you think it was, anything more than that would be reason enough to whine.

My previous job was exactly four miles from my driveway to my parking spot and I driver farther now but I never checked in on my trip-o-meter. I think I'll set it for the ride home and see what I get.