Stress and the Inner Valley Girl

I've missed you. I've missed blogging. I've thought about things to say...but my work (which hit a slower period when my first client of the year went live in March) has been C_R_A_Z_Y! Or normal. Really the slower period that allowed me to think and breathe and relax was atypical.

I wanted to write about a piece I've been going over in my mind on my bike ride -- hopefully I will get to that later this week.

But here's today's ... boggle ... I guess, is a good word.

1. I ordered a bottle of wine with my take-away dinner. The hotel bar tender asked "how many glasses?" I said "one". You would think this was unheard of! (Is New Jersey dry? Or is it, like, part of a northern Bible Belt? Maybe I missed that somewhere...) I was planning to consume it over my entire stay here. After I got back to my room I remembered that I only stay here 2 nights...even though this trip lasts through Thursday. I have to fly to the next location on Wednesday. Maybe he had a point. It's already half gone, though, and I think I'll have just one more tiny little glass before I go to bed...
2. I TOTALLY thought that it would be SO COOL to be that super-smart business person that hops between cities consulting with clients and solving problems. This combines a couple things I like: travel and problem-solving. But now that I at least travel and problem solve I feel sorta disillusioned. I never feel super-smart or like I save the day. The client always wants something my company's product won't quite do. And it really is a lot of effort to convince them that my way is so much better and really is what they wanted even though they didn't know it. It's just not that glamorous! (siiiighhhh)
3. Plus, let me just say that I somehow missed the trip to Hawaii even though I helped with that client. Instead, I, like totally, get to go to rad places like Cincinnati, Salisbury (SC), Burlington, St.Paul, etc. Nothing wrong with any of them - they all had their own adventure (remind me to tell you about the 3-alarm hotel in Cincinnati sometime) and I think I might be stora glad I made to all of them. Fer sure.

Anywhooooo - back to why I need a bottle of wine:

1. The trip started by getting a center seat on the plane. (Like, no WAY!)
2. Then I watched a woman stow her wheelie bag in the overhead bin, walk 4 more rows and stow her other carry-on in the bin across from my seat. (Which totally explains why there usually aren't any places left for my rollie bag!!!) THEN she sat NEXT TO ME and ate her smelly sandwich. EEEWWWW!
3. Upon arriving at Newark I had this total deja vu...I guess from a previous business trip to Mahwah. That's like a whole other story.
4. My fellow Business Analyst told me "it's really easy - just take the shuttle from the airport to the hotel". I asked an information person for the way to the hotel shuttles. He told me there weren't any. Um, so, like, what? So, ok. I'll just ask someone else. They told me to take the train. Back to that Mahwah thing...I did that then and got my entire party lost and the little conductor guy got mad at me for missing my stop. Then he stood by me until the next stop to make sure I AND my party got off his train. Lousy conductor guy. Not even cute.
5. Anyway I do take the NJ Transit and after the 3rd train get to the station at the town listed on the hotel address. But, like, guess what? The hotel isn't really in that town. Like how's that even possible? Rat-friggin' bas....nevermind. I give up, call the hotel and order them to send the shuttle.
6. A car shows up. Black. No stickers. Guy hops out. Says "you need a ride?" Did I happen to mention that by this point it's totally DARK and I'm completely frustrated? Do I get in this car? Did I mention that the book I was reading while I was waiting was a mystery/thriller about serial killers? Then he says "you're going to the Marriott, right?" So either that's an amazing coincidence (or maybe it's the only hotel in town and I do have luggage with me) or he's my ride. My stress level is nearing the "high" marker. Whatever.
7. This hotel doesn't have room service. What the?!?

And, in re-reading this, apparently when I vent, I resort back to the Valley Girl talk I so carefully emulated in 6th grade -- from all my cool friends that were newly-arrived from the States and totally in the know of what was happenin'!