In 14 days I managed to hit: Portland, Orange County, Raleigh, Ft. Worth, Milwaukee, and Baltimore. I am the queen of the 18 hour city visit, except of course for Orange County, where I got to spend TWO whole nights at the Airport Hilton, by far my least favorite stop on the trip, if only because it was the most anonymous and soul deadening, which is not a commentary on the city itself but rather the feeling of “This hotel bar is where America’s Middle Managers – of which I am one – come to die”, and, well, if you’re going to be away from home, you might as well be in a place that FEELS like somewhere (when in Ft. Worth, you never not know you are in Ft. Worth, you know?), not a place that can and has been easily replicated at cities across the country.
I wasn’t a fan of the Airport Hilton, is what I’m saying, and that’s only like 30% because I couldn’t rack up my beloved Marriott points.
Traveling like this is hard, of course, and I’m noticing that it’s getting harder every year, something I am absolutely sure has more to do with the world decaying around me and not my advancing years, oh no, however I will say that in the past when I could be all “Who needs to pack face wash? There’s soap at the hotel!” I am now finding myself with a whole skin care routine and the very act of looking exactly the same as I did last year is requiring a lot more effort, money, and tiny 3 oz clear bottles that get their own little bin through security. Which is fine, of course, it’s all fine- again, this is work travel that I not only agree to do but propose I do, so there’s really no one to blame but myself- but you know, damn if I can no longer look at a three hour flight and think “oh good, I’ll get in a refreshing nap.”
Despite the travel weary woes, it’s been a great few weeks. I got to get out and about and do some fun work stuff, I got to go to cities where I have good friends and in a few instances I was lucky enough to sneak in an in-person hug and catch up, and I got to run, which sounds lame but I’m sure I’ll find time this week to devote a few thousand words telling you how I made peace with the hotel fitness center. Until then: my inbox is a disaster zone, my laundry is overflowing, and I’m T – 36 hours before I’m on a plane again. Cheers!