Have suitcase, will travel.
For the first time ever recorded, I have to officially travel out of state for work. While I enjoy the company of my co-workers during the working hours, I’m less than thrilled about spending five-plus, 14-hour days with them and retiring to a hotel room that sits directly in the scheduled path of Hurricane Jeanne. And despite the fact that I truly believe that the state of Florida is the armpit of the Union, I feel awful for the citizens there and would never wish them harm. Unless of course, Jeanne could step up her pace and build some ferocity, causing the airports to close indefinitely. In that case, the safety of the state’s habitants may take a close second to my own wishes.

I’m kidding, of course.

I’m not sure why I’m dreading leaving my beloved Midwest. I don’t fear travel. I don’t even fear hurricanes. But the older I get, the less glamorous work-related travel appears and the more I believe one should only travel for leisure.

Travel in itself is stressful. Packing the right amount of clothes is never a successful endeavor for me. I always wish I brought a certain pair of shoes or when I return home I realize that I could have traveled for another week without doing laundry. It’s a typical hurry-up-and-wait scenario at the airport, what with having to arrive two hours early just for security. And you already know my feelings about the TSA.

It just seems that at that point, going through such hullabaloo is really nonsense for any other reason than to plant your self in some glorious destination where you’re reliving your memories of past, sinking your toes into soft sand under shady umbrella or snapping away with your new Nikon.

Beyond that, I’m skeptical of a state that allows a giant mouse to keep such a large domain. Don’t Floridians know we kill those things up here?

posted by paula 11:32 PM