After two weeks of silently stressing out, I am breathing calmly again.
I hate to travel for work, most particularly because I feel it is like stealing time from my family. I hate that I don’t get to kiss my kids good night. I fear that they will figure out that life is so much easier without me. I also feel guilty, because deep down, I am actually super happy to get the hell away for a couple of days. I mean seriously, I am in a beautiful city, in a nice hotel, and for the next two days, I don’t have to ask myself questions like, “Why the hell is there a spatula in the toilet?” But, if I do, I suspect it will be much harder to explain than when I am at home.
I am happy to be away, amongst adults, doing grown up things, like sleeping through the night and eating a warm dinner. But, I am glad that the stress of leaving is over. I hate that moment when you say good-bye, it kills me inside. I also hate packing, which really shouldn’t be complicated, but I definitely find a way to make it much harder than it needs to be. The challenge was to pack everything I needed for two (working) days, in a carry on suitcase. That covers laptop, iPad, hair straighteners and clothes for both freaking hot and cold temperatures, for work days at the office and nights out in the city. I think the hardest was trying to choose shoes. Seriously, I managed to bring it down to two pairs, but that took work.
So all the stress is over, I made it through the good-byes, to my car, out of the garage ( with the car fully in tact this time), to the airport and to the hotel. And now, I am sitting outside, breathing calming, looking at this. Not too freaking shabby.