So here I sit at DIA for the fourth time in four days.
While the rest of Colorado is celebrating an official “Snow Day”, I made it quite quickly to the airport, flew through security, grabbed a bagel and orange juice and am now somewhat patiently awaiting my flight to Erie, PA through Detroit, so I can rent a car and drive to Jamestown, NY.
Part of me really covets that “Snow Day”.
But, I do love what I do, in spite of the long days of travel. I wonder if my thoughts on my job will change once there’s a baby at home. When I left this morning at 5:45am, I tried to imagine preparing and saying goodbye to a little one, as well as trying to get myself out the door at that ungodly hour. Hmm … we shall see. The up side is the many days I’m not traveling and get to just be at home. It’s an interesting trade. 24 hours after 24 hours of being home, broken up by maybe 2-3, 1-2 day trips a month. Very very interesting … only time will tell!
Well, I wanted to share some random musings about airport life:
Why did DIA put red carpet on Concourse C, the color of what can only be described as stale tomato juice? It’s fairly revolting.
I love it when little kids have their own miniature rolly-bags. It cracks me up. A little 3 year old boy just strutted by with his very own Spiderman bag on wheels. He was very proud. I’m sure all the 2 year old girls are checking him out.
Oh my gosh, I HATE IT when people don’t scoot down after their bins/bags come through security. They stand there, putting on their belt, adjusting their collars, putting away their laptop, tying their shoes….all while my stuff if just out of reach inside the metal tunnel. MOVE DOWN!!!
Why when people get on the train do they stand right next to the first pole by the door jam? Don’t they see the 50 other people waiting to get on the train? And then they glare if one of the 50 gets stuck in the door and the Man on the Speaker who plays the really odd music says, “YOU are delaying the departure of this train. Please stand clear of the doors.” Again I teach–STEP IN PEOPLE!
It was a heart stopping moment when I crested the escaltor on Concourse C (I’m rarely on Concourse C because my primary airline, United, is on B), expecting to see Einstein Bagels, but only saw, gag me, McDonalds. Then I realized I came up on the opposite escalator than normal. I walked to my left and straight ahead, my bagels. The world was set right again.
Seriously, the things people sneak on these days as carry ons is a crime. There should be police for this.
Why is there only a Caribou on Concourse A? Now that’s just unfair.
It’s really quite irritiating that every time I settle somewhere, I have to completely unsettle to go to the restroom. This is far worse now that I’m pregnant.
I’ve mastered the art of touching the bathroom stalls as little as possible. I use my shoulder to push open the door, step in, twirl my bag in and around and use it to shove the door shut. I don’t even lock it–just lean the suitcase. It’s a wonderful little routine. Until the latch is missing or broken, which is often the case, and the door proceeds to swing outward, due to the pressure from the suitcase, just as I’m sitting down. How irritating.
Do you know how annoying it is when, on a plane of 150 people, I happen to sit right near the two guys or two gals who decide to be chummy and talk the ENTIRE TIME? Again, we need police.
I wish I lived in Kansas City. No, strike that, I wish that airport would swap with DIA, so I could still live here, but use the Kansas City Airport. Which I guess, in this scenario, would be DIA. Point is, DIA was laid out by crazy people who don’t travel multiple times in a week, and Kansas City was laid out by angels.
Deciding what to wear to travel is one of the most stressful events of any given travel week. Jeans or business pants? Sneakers or painful “appropriate” black shoes? Tshirt or sweater? Layers or not? Jacket? Gloves? Socks? Today I opted for socks instead of nylons with my slip on black shoes, (cold feet on a plane=crabby me), jeans, a Tshirt with a sweater, a scarf, mittens and a light nylon-rain jacket. I think this was a pretty good decision. Professional enough, but still comfortable. The worst is when opt for a hoodie, jeans and comfy shoes, and I meet with a prospect. Like a VP of Sales from Qwest. I don’t think I’m very convincing when I say I’m a professional speaker/training when I’m wearing my college clothes.
I could go on forever about travel … but alas, the bathroom calls. So I’ll have to pack up and relocate. Maybe after that I’ll take a nap, somehow, while leaning over the armrest, attempting to cushion the discomfort with my sweater and light nylon-rain coat. Or I’ll just go get coffee.