Seriously.
For the past 11 years I have been a serious business traveler. At my peak travel frequency I was on the road at least twice a month for a week at a time. It was brutal. It was a test in personal and professional endurance. It was part of my job.
Travel is a part of what I still do, but usually it's not back to back to back to back like it has been this last few months.
And it's never accompanied the hellish professional and emotional year that has unfolded.
I'm setting you up to feel some sympathy for me, but really, it is what it is. I'm a grown up, and I screwed up.
See, a couple of weeks ago we did a big shuffle on who was coming on this trip, and I rearranged the itineraries, rooms, etc., since I had made the original reservations.
In the process, I actually traveled to another destination, was there for five days, did the song and dance that event required/deserved, then returned to home base...for less than a week, and now I'm on this jaunt.
Somewhere in all of that I lodged in my brain a departure time for this trip that was reinforced every time I looked at my printed itinerary because I just kept looking at it the wrong time (arrival in Dallas NOT departure from ABQ) and that time lodged in my brain.
So that time is the time I structured everything around...my last night's packing, my morning, etc.
Imagine my surprise/shock/amazement (in not a hey we've won a free dinner out! kind of way but an oh fuck I seriously missed my fucking flight are you fucking kidding me?! kind of way) when the automatic record locater didn't...automatically find my record because the original record was tied to the flight that had already left.
My pennance? (Besides seriously considering checking myself into a spa for about a month to rejuvenate and beginning some serious psychotherapy to address my issues.)
A day on standby.
If you've never experienced the joy of being in limbo within the system, I highly recommend avoiding it FOREVER because it will scar you and make you cranky and begin to understand those people you see who mutter to themselves while stalking off to the nearest airport bar for another shot of something to dull the razor edge of the humility and helplessness of this state of limbo..it totally sucks.
But, I 'm now in DC. And it's raining. And everyone is shaking their heads because the Eagles are handing the Redskins their butts on a platter. Last time I checked the score was 35-0, and things were headed in the very wrong direction for the Skins.
I'm in my room, a lovely room with a tub so I can soak and a big soft bed so I can lay down and attempt to regroup and forgive myself for being such an idiot and ramp up for two full days of conference/schmoozing/relationship deepening and planning.
Deep breaths are in order. Four sets of 10.
As is a room service order of crab bisque and a crisp, cold chardonnay.
I really can't think of any other way to gently end this horror of a day and prepare for what will surely be a cool event overall.
Oh, and miracle of miracles, in spite of keeping me suspended until the VERY LAST SECOND on standby for flights, my bag made it. Seriously! And, it actually beat me here. I think it got on the flight before I did...which I would have gotten on except that onetanned bitch through passenger (who was remarkably fast even in flip flops) from Costa Rica sprinted from her customs check to the gate right before they called my name.
For the past 11 years I have been a serious business traveler. At my peak travel frequency I was on the road at least twice a month for a week at a time. It was brutal. It was a test in personal and professional endurance. It was part of my job.
Travel is a part of what I still do, but usually it's not back to back to back to back like it has been this last few months.
And it's never accompanied the hellish professional and emotional year that has unfolded.
I'm setting you up to feel some sympathy for me, but really, it is what it is. I'm a grown up, and I screwed up.
See, a couple of weeks ago we did a big shuffle on who was coming on this trip, and I rearranged the itineraries, rooms, etc., since I had made the original reservations.
In the process, I actually traveled to another destination, was there for five days, did the song and dance that event required/deserved, then returned to home base...for less than a week, and now I'm on this jaunt.
Somewhere in all of that I lodged in my brain a departure time for this trip that was reinforced every time I looked at my printed itinerary because I just kept looking at it the wrong time (arrival in Dallas NOT departure from ABQ) and that time lodged in my brain.
So that time is the time I structured everything around...my last night's packing, my morning, etc.
Imagine my surprise/shock/amazement (in not a hey we've won a free dinner out! kind of way but an oh fuck I seriously missed my fucking flight are you fucking kidding me?! kind of way) when the automatic record locater didn't...automatically find my record because the original record was tied to the flight that had already left.
My pennance? (Besides seriously considering checking myself into a spa for about a month to rejuvenate and beginning some serious psychotherapy to address my issues.)
A day on standby.
If you've never experienced the joy of being in limbo within the system, I highly recommend avoiding it FOREVER because it will scar you and make you cranky and begin to understand those people you see who mutter to themselves while stalking off to the nearest airport bar for another shot of something to dull the razor edge of the humility and helplessness of this state of limbo..it totally sucks.
But, I 'm now in DC. And it's raining. And everyone is shaking their heads because the Eagles are handing the Redskins their butts on a platter. Last time I checked the score was 35-0, and things were headed in the very wrong direction for the Skins.
I'm in my room, a lovely room with a tub so I can soak and a big soft bed so I can lay down and attempt to regroup and forgive myself for being such an idiot and ramp up for two full days of conference/schmoozing/relationship deepening and planning.
Deep breaths are in order. Four sets of 10.
As is a room service order of crab bisque and a crisp, cold chardonnay.
I really can't think of any other way to gently end this horror of a day and prepare for what will surely be a cool event overall.
Oh, and miracle of miracles, in spite of keeping me suspended until the VERY LAST SECOND on standby for flights, my bag made it. Seriously! And, it actually beat me here. I think it got on the flight before I did...which I would have gotten on except that one
Yikes. That's a terrible story. I'm so glad it ended well. I mean, except for the tanned bitch in flip flops.
ReplyDeleteRight? All things ended well, but there were some moments during the day when I was seriously questioning my career, sanity and the general condition of mankind, not necessarily in that order.
ReplyDelete