I was in Chicago this week. I don't have a traveling job, so it was unusual for me to be there. I don't mind traveling if I can drive, even if it's a long drive. But, I really don't like the whole airport thing. Though I've often considered it, Chicago is really too far to drive from north Texas.
I don't know what it is about business trips that entice me to eat a pint of Ben & Jerry's every night in front of the TV.
Thursday evening wasn't a particularly good one. I fell asleep watching a show about Alaskan king crab fishermen. What a terribly dangerous, and awful, and exciting job that is. I could envision myself doing that job. Working with some real men. Trying to be one of them.
I forgot to call home.
At 4:15 (I looked at my clock) on Friday morning, the girls next door came flip-flopping down the hall (it was warm this week in Chicago) to end their evening. I couldn't go back to sleep, and I was crab fishing again.
At 4:30 my bed started to shimmy a little. Hmm... Must be a big truck. Then, my bed started to shimmy quite a bit, like I was sleeping in a bowl of Jello. Hmm... This wasn't good. At one point, I thought I should probably get my clothes on and get off the 21st floor. But, I just got up instead and had a cup of that awful hotel room by-the-cup coffee.
Never heard a peep out of the girls next door again.
They said it was the first earthquake in the area in 24 years, not just the normal swaying of tall buildings. I'm just lucky that way, I guess.
1-stories in Garland, Texas are great. No earthquakes, and no sway.
It's interesting to learn, after I've gotten back from a trip, what little things I do that irritate my wife, but that she lets me slide on.
My smelly running shoes were in the garage. Big Yank, my 20-year-old heavy hooded sweatshirt jacket and friend wasn't hanging over the utility room door but was back in my closet. All my CDs, books and other junk I pile up on the kitchen cabinet were put up.
I'm happy to report that this morning everything is back in its rightful place, including me.