“Wow, it must be pretty cold outside,” I thought. I had the furnace set to cycle on when the house hit 60 degrees, and it was cranking out heat like nobody’s business. It was light outside, and I was curled up in a toasty ball under my covers. Better yet, I hadn’t slept in any weird position, so nothing was kinked or aching. I was blissfully happy.
Then I realized why I was awake: my alarm was going off.
“Who sets their alarm for weekends?” I wondered. “It’s not right to wake up to an alarm on a Saturday.”
And then it hit me: it’s not Saturday. It’s Wednesday. Hump Day, yes, but still – definitely not a weekend. If it’s really all downhill from here, then I hope the pace picks up so we can slide into Friday’s 5 o’clock hour with whiplash-inducing speed.
Thankfully, my VP allowed for some wiggle room in this morning’s schedule. Landing minutes before midnight at LAX isn’t ideal before an 8am start the next day, so his, “Use your good judgment and just be in by noon” statement was music to my ears when we got off the plane, not that he was singing or anything. I figured I’d split the different and shoot for 10am.
Travel messes me up. Every time. And I don’t even need to switch time zones to feel its wrath. Add in a headache that lasted for three days and a hotel room with a cranky mini-fridge that whirred and vibrated in the corner all night long, and you have the makings of exhaustion – aside from the usual stress of prepping for a client meeting. All I’d need now is to succumb to the disease coming from the germ-spewing guy five rows back on last night’s flight home. Seriously, have people never heard of covering their mouths or noses when coughing, hacking or sneezing? In his defense, maybe he was arm-less, I don’t know. I never really got a good look at him.
I drive by three Starbucks locations on my way to work, plus a hidden one that lurks inside of a grocery store. As I approached each one, I considered stopping. And apparently I should have, because after parking in the adjacent deck, descending four flights of stairs, walking across the courtyard, waiting for an elevator to whisk me up to the office and finally making it to my 14th floor perch, I realized my laptop was still in my car. Back down I went, across the courtyard I traipsed, up four flights of stairs and back to my car. Then repeat, but in the opposite direction once more. I immediately made a beeline for the coffee machine, clearly needing to wake up since my alarm obviously didn’t do the trick.
Not going to lie – I’m a little worn out today, but thankful my headache has departed. I’m grateful to be back from travel, happy the day is half over and cringe to think of how productive I’d be had I gotten here at 8am. The bigger things might wear me out too easily, but the little things help me find my center again in no time.