The Sister Hood of the Traveling Pants. Never read it, never saw it.
But in the world of travel, there's no Sisterhood, and I don't think any Brotherhood either. Before we continue, let me be more specific, I'm talking travel for work versus leisure(but that's not That great either- nother' blog post)
For the better half of 12 years I traveled for work(I think we covered this before?)
It started out with a position that required 10-25% travel- there is No such thing.
That 25% will flip to 52% before you can unload your carry-on. Because if you're willing to go to Dubuque, then can you go to Cedar Rapids? Then you may as well go to Davenport, then move to Moline, and before you know it your in Des Moines, and you've got an 8 hour drive home on a Friday afternoon. Well then its Sunday and those Sons of B*tches want you to do it all over again and head out on "your weekend". There's nothing that makes you feel more like your doing hard time, than leaving on a Sunday. Add a sunny Sunday afternoon in summer to that? Super sucky. Was it right for that time in my life? Sure. Would I do it again? Hells No. Add another dollar or digit on that pay scale, and this girl will remain stoic. If you've ever packed a suitcase in succession, week after week, you'd know: Traveling Sucks.
People have this version of travel in their head that's very unreal.
Allow me to present: A day in the Life of the Traveling Pants
3:30am wake up, dress for work and drive to the airport.
Park car, shuttle bus to terminal and wait to take off. Delay. People watch. Wait. Fly. Land. Rent car. load bags. Consult map and drive to destination. Arrive at destination. Your starving, but your "just getting to work" so you press on. Did I mention, you already have an 8 hour day In?
7:00pm Leave work and head to hotel. Stop for the least offensive food available. Check into hotel. These clothes have been on my body 19 hours now. Work out. Channel surf at least till midnight. Try to Sleep. No one sleeps in a hotel. We're all zombies breathing in the dry air. And we all look like we're about to crack at the coffee bar in the morning.
Apparently I missed the private jet, the catered lunch and the tarmac pick up.
Most of my meals were picked up from places with names like Kwik Trip, and Kum N' Go(who was That marketing genius??) sarc. I became quite the queen of eating the best of the worst from these places, and steered clear of anything on a rotisserie rack.
Then there were the hotels. I had a routine and a few more refined ones that I would regularly stay at. Second floor only, and never a King size bed. And speaking of beds, every night, I would say a silent prayer, and hoped they switched the sheets where I was going to inhabit the next 4 nights at The Hampton Inn.
P has also traveled for work.
He has been gone days, and been gone weeks.
He has spent the summer doing sweaty drives, only to pass out at home by 7'o-clock.
We've both turned down work, that involved being gone every night.
Because at the end of the day, it's just money. And when I made more money? I spent more money.
Stupid money. Funny how that happens.
So at the end of the day, if your not home to spend your money with your honey, send someone else to Travel in those Pants.