Tuesday, November 17, 2015

have rubberband, will travel

I debated back and forth over whether to drive myself to the airport or arrange for a shuttle.  Control issues vs. poor night vision (and probable migraine) when I return (fuck you, eye surgeon).  Plus the safety of walking alone in airport parking garages as a woman.  But is getting into a stranger's vehicle truly any safer?  Do they extensively background check their drivers?   (#YesAllWomen)  I'm assuming men don't have to consider being assaulted when taking any transportation other than one's own vehicle.  Every time.  But I could be wrong.

The limo driver certainly knew where the left lane was, and wasn't afraid to use it.  And we weren't in the slightest bit late.  Guess they drive fast in Ecuador.

At airport security, I made an aging lesbian happy.  She volunteered to give me a full body pat-down.  And said she was disappointed when I declined a private room.  One day maybe I'll be brave enough to see what those entail.  But I watch movies, so I know that's where they disappear you.  Some Eurotrash hipster (my favorite kind lately) gave me an ooh la la while he watched her feel me up. Pshaw, back of her hands.  Whatevs.

I made more friends in the gate waiting area.  Wall outlets are a wanted commodity.  An American hipster this time asked to share mine with his double outlet and higher amperage.  He was nice with a cute smile, so I acquiesced.   Then the fkr bragged about his longer cord.   Asshole.  :)

It's been about a year since I've flown last, and I swear the seats are getting tinier and tinier.  I'm sure as hell not growing taller.  And shut the fuck up about my ass getting bigger.  :)   It's solid muscle, well partially solid muscle.

Speaking of muscle, I'm missing my workouts this week.  I realize there is probably an adequate gym at the hotel, or even body-weight fitness I can do in my room.  But I've made an executive decision that hoisting my luggage and laptop around all week counts for exercise.  Plus the walking in the airports and all the fkn handshaking and smiling counts, too.  A smile uses a bajillion muscles or was that a frown?  What about fake smiles?  Do those use more or less than genuine smiles?  Do you suppose I can switch off shaking with my left hand, so that my muscles stay balanced?  That might be too much of an awkward explanation, so I'll deal with getting a GIANT muscled right arm.

I've also decided that sleep will be a scarce commodity and definitely takes priority over exercise.  What?  No, I always wake up at 5 am, and then stay out and about talking to people constantly until 10:30 pm.  Why would I want to be well-rested when learning new concepts?  This is where gratitude comes into play.  I'm happy to have gainful employment.  I'm grateful for fantastic co-workers and managers.  I'm grateful that I found shoes that mostly match my dowdy professional outfits and are semi-comfortable.

And I'm grateful that magnesium and a rubber-band keep my anxiety manageable.

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