Monthly Archives: October 2017

I Hate Tuesdays

I hate Tuesdays. It’s nothing personal. Tuesday has never done anything to me. I just have this thing against Tuesdays.

I always hear that Mondays are the worst day of the week, that everyone hates dragging themselves to work after days of relaxation and weekend warriorhood. Well, I think Mondays get a bad rap.

I am well rested for Monday, walking into work refreshed, chatting about weekend activities and family anecdotes with others around the cubicles. I put in a full nine hours with gusto, attending meetings and getting it all done, after which I handle the rest of the day of drive home, dinner, dog walks, and assorted chores before bed.

My beef is with Tuesdays. I have to get up and actually repeat the day. This time, no one chats around the hallways. Everything interesting has already been said. It is just the desk, the work, the meetings, the drive, dinner, dog walk, assorted chores, and, well, you get the idea. And now, my energy is fading because I used up my weekend reserves on Monday.

Wednesday isn’t bad. Wednesday is hope. We have walked up the hill and peaked over the horizon at the weekend just over there. It’s hump day, the middle, when we start to crest the week.

Thursday is the slide into third base. For those like us who have every other Friday off, then for some, Thursday is their Friday. If I am off that Friday, then Thursday is my favorite day. Every task is approached as something I must get done before I walk out the door. In the evening, I am energized, sorting and straightening my home so in the morning, I can stand in my clean kitchen with a cup of coffee, watching from the greenhouse window the poor souls pulling out of their driveways heading for work. On my long weeks when I have Friday on, payday helps to soften the blow of one more work day.

I like my job and my company, and enjoy what I do. If only they could do away with Tuesdays, then life would be that much closer to perfection.

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Two Days: Day Two

I paid my respects. The loss was felt deeply as I reconnected with family, and I will pass on their sentiments to my brothers in the best way I can.

Then it was Saturday and time for me to prepare for departure to Los Angeles. There were storms in the Midwest and everything was delayed. My Delta flight took off for Minneapolis twenty minutes late which turned into a real problem. It was announced as we landed that they were holding the plane to L.A. so I was not alone. Remember where they park those smaller planes? It was with a feeling of brotherhood that 22 strangers ran across the airport to desperately catch a plane which really wasn’t being held – they closed the door after the person just behind me. I thought I was dying and was grateful for an uneventful flight, a good seat, and my inhaler to recover from my sprint.

So….arrival at my home airport means I am done with the hard work, right? Uh, not so much.
I had booked and prepaid (including tip) a shared ride van. I had traveled that way problem free years ago but apparently things have drastically changed. I will summarize what I did for an hour. I fumed. That’s it. When they finally realized they couldn’t find a driver who would go the distance for me, they arranged a taxi – who didn’t show up. The taxi company kept calling me to say he was there. The van rep even got on my phone to convince her I wasn’t blind. So they ordered another taxi. And another. Into what black hole were these taxis going? Finally one guy showed up and said he hadn’t been able to find me. The van rep called him a liar and suddenly I was the voice of reason refereeing a screaming match. Then another taxi materialized from the black hole. This driver started yelling that the first guy was stealing his ride. Then we had a two taxi drivers and a van rep all yelling at each other. I was busy looking for the hidden camera.

I did finally get home, holding tight while taking Mr. Toad’s wild ride. And the moral of the story is….there is no moral. It’s all a wild ride. Just keep moving, hold on tight, and take it all in while you are here.

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Two Days: Day One

This is a story of a trip I took that lasted two days. Two days, six airports, and almost eight miles of walking the length of them. Trust me, I have a Fitbit so I know these things.
While visiting my family back east, my uncle in the Midwest passed away. I decided to extend my stay and reconfigure my flights to attend his service. Little did I expect such a blog worthy tale.

An important note: I loved my uncle, who was also my godfather and my biggest cheerleader. We talked more often over the last few years, and he would start his voicemails “This is the president of your fan club.” There was no doubt I would take this detour for him and his family, and you’ll find no grumbling here.

JetBlue was kind enough to refund me for the second leg leaving JFK so I was able to rebook flights into Missouri on Friday, out to L.A. on Saturday. Since no airlines fly direct anymore, I knew I would be hopscotching the country. But when you do that, some parts of the puzzle will be puddle jumpers – smaller plans such as American Eagle to American Airlines. I have no problem with those. They are quick flights with easy seating and I like their simplicity. The problem is that airports park these babies at opposite ends from their bigger siblings. But I am getting ahead of myself.

I arrived at JFK knowing I would need to change terminals so I claimed my bag and headed to the Air Train. Using escalators, moving walkways, and traditional shoe leather, I went up and down so many times I lost count. That was my first hint that I would be seriously feeding my Fitbit that day. I made it to American Airlines, checked my bag, and hoofed it way down to the American Eagle gates. At least when you start at ticketing, it isn’t a mile away.
Next stop – Charlotte Douglas Airport NC. I had plenty of time to get to my connection but my energy flagged as I made my way from the A gates all the way to the other end of the airport to E34. I had no problems, though, and made it to St. Louis. So one long travel day under my belt.

 

 

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