Routine play at home

I rarely use my front door. I am blessed to have an attached garage that I am able to drive right into, put the door down and walk directly into my home.

My front door is on the far opposite side of the house--and down two flights of stairs! I often even have guests come through the garage--it faces the guest parking lot--and it's just a whole lot easier.
But, every single night--without fail--at some point in the evening, I trek down to that door-- 'to check the front porch.'
(That is my doormat by the way!)

I turn on the porch light, unchain the front door and slowly open it up. I let out a little sigh as I pick up the realtor notepads and house cleaner's fliers and giant pink donation bags that accumulate out there. I check the plants to see if they need watering. I pick up the sticks and rocks and stray branches on the walk.
But here's the deal...
I really go down there each night with the HOPE that there is something amazing out there for me. A special package, a bouquet of flowers, a surprise gift...or, well...
I go to see if, perhaps, just maybe...someone might be out there waiting for me.
I know! Ridiculous, right? Have I just seen way too many movies?!

I'm not sure exactly what it is I'm looking for...
But I go down in hopes of finding it.
Every single night.