Traveling for work used to be exciting, and I thought, glamorous. Yeah, even on Southwest, I believed it was fun. Now that it is a part of most every work week for me, it's not so fun or exciting or glamorous. It makes me tired.
(First world problem, I know.)
(I get a load of points to take my family on trips, I know.)
(I have to take 5:55 a.m. flights some days. A lot of days. Oh, wait, sometimes I take a 6:25 a.m.)
When it comes to work travel, I have a routine. I typically wear a pair of black wedges. If not, I wear my black ballet flats and pack in a pair of heels. I know better than to try and run to a gate in three or four-inchers. I have go-to outfits for warm and cold weather. I know what jewelry works on a flight and always have my James Avery hook bracelet on my wrist. I use either my big yellow travel bag or my green one. Baylor colors bleed true even in work travel. I know what items to pop into those bags. I take time the night before to pack the bag according to the day's need. I figure out how to make lunches ahead of time, lay out clothes, fill backpacks and write babysitter notes. I also do the 'how many hours of sleep do I need to kind of get eight hours or something like that' math when the alarm goes off in the 4s.
Remember, I'm a planner. And, I do all this before a fourth-part. Yes, even on nights when I know the next day is a way too early wake-up call, I'm watching some DVRed show or reading. I need my fourth part to fuel that crack of dawn first part.
But wait, there's more. I've to plan with G on who is on first with drop offs, pick ups and activities. Because, sometimes, he has an early morning staff meeting or coaches' gathering. When the perfect storm occurs, fortunately, I have a sister and brother-in-law a couple of doors down that can help get the girls to school. We had to call in that request this week.
Even though I've a routine and I've my sister and her family available, the planning takes it's toll.
So, when you see that the weekend calendar is empty, you jump for joy. Yeah, I jumped. I might have even danced when I watched the DVRed Oscars (was there something that happened?) and heard JT sing that peppy tune from Trolls.
Jumped and danced my way right over to a washing machine that chose not to bring in water when I popped the knob and put in my request for that miracle liquid. What? Let's try that again. Nope, no water. How about moving the dial to a different setting? Nah, water was not happening. What if I stare at it, place my hands on it and pray something like 'Dear God in heaven, we've just paid Chris' rent for the month and we bought him a new car and I just received the statement indicating I'm only level 1 at Nordstrom so I have some shopping to do and we don't have any extra money for repairs or a new washing machine'? Still no water.
I did this all while I was swishing a tablespoon of coconut oil around in my mouth. For 20 minutes. That's a long time without swallowing a thick liquid. That's quite a while not to laugh or talk. Oh, and that's time needed to help 'pull' out what I think is a cavity growing in one of my back molars.
In the middle of this travel week, I noticed and felt a swollen gum in the back of my mouth. I also had a little bit of constant dull pain around that swelling and the aforementioned tooth was a bit sensitive. I had a couple of lunches with colleagues during this travel week and had to remember to chew on the left side to avoid any out-loud recognition of the pain -- yeah, a scream or yelp. Maybe, I made a little noise at one point during a lunch and tried to play it off as a laugh or gasp at a comment. Etiquette people, business lunch etiquette at it's finest.
I didn't make the 20 minutes. I only did it for 10. I needed to focus on the lack of water in my washing machine. I needed to figure out how to get some laundry detergent soaked clothes out of the washer and down to my sister's house (remember she helps me at all times -- not just early school mornings). I needed to panic about the many loads of laundry needed to be done and the fact that Camille wouldn't have any leos for next week's many nights of gymnastics and yeah, I can go to a dark place really quickly and G is out of town and he would tell me we don't need to sell a car to pay for a new washing machine.
I needed to . . .
Walk away from the washing machine.
Watch the Oscars.
Make a list of Saturday activities: Put in HEB online order, get $17 in cash (for this savings thing I'm trying), pick up a jacket from Lucky Thread (new embroidered sayings) and go to the Nordstrom card website to earn 500 points (I need to get to level 2).
Take a couple of melatonin gummies.
Go to bed.
Pray a more normalized, non-selfish, unfrantic prayer asking God to provide water to come through the potentially scale-y pipes so laundry could be done this weekend (yeah, I watched a youtube video thinking there was a button to push or a switch to click to make water appear and instead I learned about scale build up in the tubes that required unplugging and using a special wrench and then, click pause on that).
As Scarlet and my friend Rach say, 'after all, tomorrow is another day.' (Wait, Rach quotes Prissy saying 'I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' babies.' That's another topic for another day. But it is still so funny. You should hear her say it. She is spot-on Prissy.)
In a movie that would probably win one of those golden statues, I wake up and all is fixed. (Fix was the 2017 Adams' plan and word.)
My tooth didn't hurt this morning. (I'm doing another round of oil pulling today. I'll go the full 20 minutes).
My girls were already up and dressed. Caroline finished her four readings and summaries.
Breakfast came together well.
HEB order was under $100.
And, the washing machine filled with water when I pulled the knob.
Guess what, friends. In today's fourth part, which starts about now, I'm shopping. Level 2 is on this year's horizon. Rach, what would Prissy say to that?
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