I’m just going to come out and say it: I hate traveling so, so much. The only way I would like it is if my layover involved Anthony Bourdain.
Especially the Amsterdam episode.
However, I have to do it for work three or four times a year, and because I kind of need to stay employed, I kind of have to travel those three or four times a year.
I bring this up because it’s time to make our yearly trek to Houston, which for me starts with a 6am flight Thursday (3am alarm) and ends Monday night. We put on a party Friday night for 800 people in the industry, 300 people Saturday night and I work the trade show the whole weekend, meaning there are many 14-16 hour days.
That’s not (really) the issue.
The issue is that not only do I pack my luggage for these trips, but I also pack enough emotional baggage to weigh down a 747. I joke about things, but traveling is not something that’s emotionally or physically healthy for me.
I end up trying to negotiate some sort of sanity between my raging OCD, health issues and actual numerous professional duties while trying to find any vegetarian food in a hog-happy city with limited time and resources. When I get home, it takes at least a couple weeks to physically recover, which is one of the unspoken “fun” things associated with being underweight and OCD.
“Sign me up!” – said no one ever.
Anyway, I’m not telling you this to complain—you all have your own crap to deal with and I’ll make the most of my time while I’m gone—but rather to let you know this is one reason my blog has been a bit off lately. My head’s been kind of all over the place.
I’m also telling you this to prepare you for five days of me not being chained to my computer every second, since I’m sure at least two of you would have noticed. I don’t have the Internet on my phone—I’m old school—so computer time will be when I can get it.
But don’t think you can forget about me and move on to some other bright and shiny blog that’s younger and more attractive with bigger boobs.
I’ll still be checking in, and of course there is my inevitable return when I vaguely recap my adventure as to protect the innocent—and my job—and give you my unique perspective on traveling with issues.
And Uncle June.
This is an old picture of him on a plane last year. I don’t know why, but I can’t put a border on this image. C’est la vie.
Plus, if I accidentally booked my flight home for a month later than I need, get food poisoning or dragged onto the stage to dance in front of 800 people, accosted by a topless woman painted to look like a peacock or given the opportunity to get my picture taken with a former Playboy playmate/Girl Next Door, that will make for some good blog content.
And for the record, all of those things have happened, so there’s definite potential.
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Where was the last place you traveled? Do you have any weird stories or travel mishaps you can share with the class?