So as I’ve mentioned, I’m currently traveling for work. My first ever business trip. That went very well, thank you very much. I presented to “the client”. I was complimented on my presentation by several people. And even told that I had the most captive audience of any of the presenters. Nice!
I was gone 3 full days and 2 nights. I’ve never stayed in a hotel room by myself before. Man, that’s lonely. Luckily, I was so busy that I never even had the opportunity to turn on the TV in my hotel room, let alone feel lonely. Except for when I climbed into the king sized bed by myself. King sized beds are not meant to be slept in alone.
Today, on my last full day of the trip, I began counting down the hours to when I would get home and see my boys. I woke up at 6 a.m. “Only 15 hours til I get home.”
Later in the day, lunch time – “Woohoo! It’s afternoon! Only 9 hours til I’m home.”
We finished up at 5, “Only 4 hours!!!!!! ZOMGGGGG!!!”
We made it to the airport and sat around and talked for a while. “Only 2 and a half hours!!! Hooray!”
We made our way over to the ticket counter. The empty, empty ticket counter. I thought to myself, “hey, maybe we’re the only ones on this flight. Maybe we can ask them to leave early. I wish we had a private jet.”
Up at the counter, the two young girls working told us that our flight was delayed one hour. Seriously? Our piddly little 50-minute flight is DELAYED? So I moped. Silently, because again, I’m traveling with co-workers.
We went to Champps and I had hands down the worst Cobb Salad of my life. I said no chicken and no bacon. And I could see the juicy indent on the lettuce from where they haphazardly picked off the chicken breast seconds before plopping the oversized plate down in front of me. Oh, and they forgot the avocado. Dummies.
So finally we meandered over to the gate with one hour left to wait to board the plane. When we got there, I said, “Why does it say the flight is delayed til 10:30?” Um, because the flight is delayed til 10:30. Oh my god, we could’ve driven home by now!
So here I sit, on the floor of an airport. With my work laptop wrinkling my business casual black pants. Wishing to god that I was home tucking my little boy into bed right now. Reading him Green Eggs and Ham. Feeling his skinny, bony arms around my neck and hearing him say, “Night night, Mommy.”