Hotel Bliss

11.09.06

A week in a hotel room by myself, with maid service and in-room coffee.  Can anyone say bliss?  Of course it would follow that before the week was done I’d come down with a cold.   At home  I’m surrounded by lots of potential germ-carriers and don’t get sick very often, but I suppose hotel rooms are cesspools of disgusting germs.

 

Maybe the spotty internet connection at the hotel lowered my resistance to bugs.  Yeah, that’s it.  The cold symptoms are actually signs of www.withdrawal.  I wonder if there are any studies out about this?  Maybe I could be the first research subject.  Watch my blood pressure rise and my patience drop every time the disembodied computer voice says, “Goodbye,” and the box pops up that says, “You have lost your connection to the internet.”    This wasn’t happening every half an hour.  It was happening every 2 – 3 minutes.  It is an extraordinarily cumbersome way to check email, let me tell you.

 

Thank goodness I had a contingency plan.  I’ve never had real good luck with hotel wireless access to the internet, so as annoying as it was I had planned for such a horror by bringing a mess of scrapbooking supplies, downloading the podcasts of my favorite radio program from www.bobandsheri.com, and made dinner plans with a couple of different people.  So I wasn’t stuck moping alone in my hotel room all week.  I actually got a lot done.  Well, except for that one night I ordered room service and found Miami Ink on TLC.  That night was a waste.  This is why I rarely turn on the television.  I get sucked in and my day is done.

 

I suppose I could have socialized more with the people from my conference.  But you know, I’m pretty darn anti-social, and I don’t know from hanging out in class with people if I want to hang out with them outside of class.  What if I naively got sucked into an unhealthy or irritating friendship?  Better to stay in my room sorting and gluing pictures to paper than to invite an emotional vampire into my life.  There’s always that risk with strangers. 

 

There was a guy in my class who stood 6 feet 9 inches.  Do you know that’s 21 inches taller than me?  Oh my god.  We went to lunch once, and he’d have liked me to stop off somewhere for a beer with him after class, but I didn’t think it was a great idea.  He told me he’s heading for the big D, and he didn’t mean Dallas.  Umm… Detroit?  Dog-pound?  I know one thing for sure;  I don’t have the patience or emotional resources to provide healthy emotional support to someone I barely know going through a nasty divorce.  How about we just not go there?  Great class, good job, congratulations you got your certification.  Now have a nice life.  There’s really no need to keep in touch.  Do I even need to mention that it’s difficult for me to have a conversation with someone 21 inches taller than me?  It’s a neck strain.

 

By Wednesday night I had the sniffles and my head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.  Thursday I was a miserable lump of humanity sitting in class feeling sorry for myself.  Until my cold medicine kicked in, and then I was a hyperactive lunatic, which was a good thing because I was learning all about non-violent physical crisis intervention, and it was a “get up and move” kind of day.

 

Anyway, I survived the week that wasn’t exactly utter bliss.  I don’t think my child missed me very much.  But the dog did, so there is that.  Instead of coming home rested and relaxed I came home sick and crabby.  Daddy and Daughter claim they had a wonderful week together.  And judging from the state of the house I’d say they are absolutely telling the truth.  All play and no work makes a big mess for Mommy.  I don’t even know where to start.  Maybe with the laundry.  Or the garbage can that’s overflowing. 

 

The best laid plans and all that.  Sometimes bliss leaves a lot to be desired.