This is where I’ve been pretty much all week. This is not my bed. This bed is not even in the same city I live in. Or the same state. And truthfully, this bed is the best part of my week. I kind of wish it was mine because it is sooooooooo fluffy and comfortable. Am I the only one that kind of loves sleeping in hotel room beds? (I block out all that could’ve gone on in them – I just find them super comfortable).
I am traveling for work, currently in the Midwest. I’ve been here for three days and I’m still thrown off by being an hour behind home. And for all of you who wonder why I’m telling you I’m out of town – well don’t you worry, Worry McWorrisomes – my house is not empty. It’s being protected by my wolf pack – Steve, Sammy and Baxter. And from what I hear, Sam’s been sitting by the window since I’ve been gone so I’m pretty sure he’s go that covered.
It’s been about three years since I’ve traveled without Steve and somewhere that required me to take a flight and it’s been even longer since I’ve traveled by myself. Up until I actually got here, I was really looking forward to it. I was thinking, “Oh, I’ve got three days all to myself to read as much as I want and watch shitty TV without anyone making fun of me!” I even had a little list of things I wanted to do written out on my desktop – it may have included silly things like painting my nails, read, blog, catch up on The Vampire Diaries (I STILL haven’t gotten to watch the last two episodes of this past season) and redesign my website.
I have done nothing but read and throw a new background up on here. And take showers. And mindlessly flip through TV.
In other words, I have accomplished nothing – even managing to not accomplish enjoying my time alone.
But at least there’s stuff to talk about.
I realized I’m not good at flying anymore. I thought I had it. It’s been three years but I’ve never had problems before. I was at the airport early, I was cool and calm, just chilling and reading my Nook. Then I get on the plane and take my seat and realize my hands are shaking so bad I can barely click my seat belt. And I realized I was a bit short of breath. And as we took and for the first twenty minutes, I pretty much think I had an anxiety attack because I kept feeling like I was going to pass out, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking and I can say that I literally felt ice run through my chest.
It wasn’t that I was worrying myself to death that caused it – on the contrary, I don’t think I thought it through enough. I just went about my business like I knew what I was doing not realizing that since the last time I had flown, I’d go through a pretty scary diagnosis of DVT (two clots in my lower leg) of which my doctor’s specifically warned me about flying. And even though I’ve been cleared since 2009, I had not stepped foot on airplane since. Combine that with the fact that I’m still working through the death of my grandfather and handling all of those emotions and perspectives that were thrown at me and I think I was just a catastrophe inside and didn’t realize it.
I almost didn’t get on my connecting flight in Charlotte.
But I made it and the second leg wasn’t so bad. I fly home tomorrow and hope to avoid the anxiousness again.
I’m either going to have to fly more or just stick to the roads.
I have a problem every single time I do fly and it involves desperately trying to avoid stabbing all of those people who gather around the gate while boarding even though IT’S NOT THEIR TURN TO BOARD.
There’s a reason the airlines call boarding by zone – if you look at your ticket, there’s a zone on there. Until yours is called go sit the hell down. I actually had to fight my way through all of those annoying people to be able to ask the gate attendent a question.
If looks could kill.
The hotel I’m staying in is a weird dichotomy of modern on the inside and college apartment on the outside. It’s supposed to look like a ski chalet but it really just strikes me as a crappy apartment building with some slight charm. It’s been “redone” inside which really means that there’s some new furniture and lamps and finishes but when you look right down at it, you can see the age on the walls and in the floors and stuff.
This is the view from my balcony.
This is my balcony.
It’s not a big deal to me. I think I’m overall apathetic about the whole place.
The staff is nice but both times I have ordered room service, they have gotten the wrong type of drink or forgotten it all together.
The water temperature is so erratic that every shower I have taken is like a surprise.
The beds are fluffy and comfortable and like sleeping on a cloud.
I saw two small ants in my bed the first night I got here but haven’t seen anything since.
I am too apathetic about this place to care either way. It’s a place to lay my head and cocoon until I get to go back to normal life.
HOWEVER – I do want to say that I have two issues regarding WiFi.
ISSUE ONE. I think it’s appalling when a hotel makes you pay to use WiFi or the Internet, especially when said hotel is charging you over $150 a night (and that’s the corporate rate) and when it’s $9.95 for 24 hours. I am ALREADY PAYING YOU! And I can walk into any place like Starbucks or Barnes and Noble and get it for free. Now, I know someone has to pay for it but SERIOUSLY?! I pay like $55 a month for my Internet at my house, they can’t pay much more. And to charge each guest $9.95 a night, well that’s just nickel and diming cheapskate low. We are at a point of time where WiFi should be included as complimentary if you are a customer of the establishment.
ISSUE TWO. When I go to a training class that ENCOURAGES me to bring my laptop so I can connect back to my office, one would expect to, you know, be able to connect back to the office. Except one finds out that the wireless connection provided for them is so crappy it’s not even worth connecting. And when it’s mentioned, said company says, “Oh, yea, someone said something about that in the last class!”. Um, OK? And you didn’t do anything? It’s not like they are a small mom and pop business – they are a large enough company to have their own training classroom that people fly into to see them. They are a software development company. HOW DOES SOMEONE IN YOUR BUILDING NOT KNOW HOW TO INCREASE YOUR WIFI? Don’t they have a WalMart? Jeez, head down, pick up an enterprise router and put it in the room. We are at a point of time where shitty WiFi signals at large businesses like that are unacceptable, especially when I’m paying them to be there.
I am ultimately lonely here. I’ve lived on my own so I know how to entertain myself but after getting used to having someone around, it’s hard to adjust back to that. I’m also being pretty much anti-social on purpose. I really just want to get the training over with and go home. I’ve hung out in the room with the exception of the first night when I went down to the bar and had a light dinner and a few glasses of wine.
And yesterday morning when I went to the continental breakfast and found I had accidentally sat down at a table someone had already claimed. I would like to note, however, that the only thing he used to “claim” it was a hotel copy of USA Today and his room key, both which looked like they had just been left by the last person to use the table. Not like someone was intending to sit there. So when he came back, I apologized profusely, offered to move (he told me not to worry about it) then nonchalantly tossed out, “You can join me if you’d like!” – because I didn’t think he would.
But he did.
And then proceeded to just sit quietly and read the paper and not say much at all.
Which made me feel super uncomfortable and even more of a need to be antisocial this week.
Who does this? It’s not even like all of the tables were full. I just guess he wanted to sit there all awkward like and stuff. Maybe proving a point. Even when I tried to engage him in conversation it was stilted and just not … good conversation.
I’ve ordered room service since. My first time ever ordering room service. It was nice and convenient and comfortable being able to sit in bed and eat. But I guess all of those movies have spoiled me to think that room service is like the BEST EVAR and SO DELICIOUS. Or maybe I was already jaded. Last night, my chicken was dry and my green beans were hard and too crunchy. The only semi decent thing were the cold mashed potatoes. And tonight, the cheesecake I got for dessert was passable and the chicken alfredo was good, except they put cold tomatoes and scallions all over the top and who does that?
So mental note: room service is only fabulous if you are staying at a fabulous hotel, of which I am apparently not.
There nice things about being here. Doing stuff I don’t normally do at home because, you know, I have to pay for them. Like turn the air down to 67 degrees and cuddle under the big fluffy covers. Or take really long and hot showers every day, sometimes twice a day. I still pick up after myself because inherently, I’m not a slob and I don’t think that just because I’m paying to stay here means I should make it difficult for people to clean up after me. But it is nice to know I don’t have to vacuum or dust or anything like that.
The bad thing about being here is I don’t have a car. The shuttles pretty much handle my transportation. But you don’t realize how it sucks not to have the ability to just go and get what you want. I’ve been at the mercy of the hotels vending machines and none of it looks appetizing, pretty much because I’m convinced that what I want is really out there where I can’t go because I don’t have a car.
Also not being able to just get up and walk into the kitchen to scrounge for a snack is annoying.
Maybe there’s bigger issues plaguing me here.
I was kind of hoping it would rain since I’m in area prone to some pretty good rainstorms. It was a bit ominous on Monday with some lightning but no long steady few days of rain like I was wishing for. We haven’t had rain in Charleston in so long.
I need a good rainy day.
I miss my bed. I miss real food and my car. I miss having someone here to talk to. I don’t think I’ve been this quiet in a while.
I miss my wolf pack. I can’t wait to get home tomorrow night and cuddle with my boys.
Finally, I got all the way here and realized this: I didn’t pack any underwear.
I had the one pair I came here with.
And Internet, I’m not going to tell what I did because I want to hear what you would’ve done first.
Remember, I have no car.
What would you do, Internet? WHAT WOULD YOU DO?
I can’t wait to be home!