Wednesday, November 18, 2009

D minus one

It always seems as though the days surrounding a vacation require twice hethe work you’d ordinarily produce. For some reason, my own job, which had been pottering along for a while, suddenly shifted into overdrive. In the past four work days (plus the weekend) I’ve had to produce marketing materials drafts, mockups, scenario scripts and questions for focus groups that are being held while I’m away; pick up the slack from my technical colleague who simply doesn’t do anything that doesn’t interest him; come up with value propositions and pricing for channel sales and pricing/justification for licensing fees—well, you get the drift.

I feel like that song Lili von Stupp sings in Blazing Saddles:

“I'm tired,
Sick and tired of love,
I've had my fill of love,
From below and above,
Tired,
Tired of being admired,
Tired of love uninspired,
Let's face it,
I'm tired!”

Just substitute “work” for “love”.

Still, I’ve also crossed a lot off the trip preparation list. Notified my credit card company to expect charges in different places (didn’t have to worry about that in ’79; no credit card).

Confirmed hotel bookings (ditto—I spent my nights in youth hostels, forests, vineyards and…well, I’ll go into that later).

Organized all my guide materials (I photocopy them so I can toss after used—30 years ago I had a Let’s Go guide to France; I was flying completely blind in Spain, nothing but my Michelin map).

Did a trial run of packing, including an empty bag for the return trip because dirty clothes always seem to take up more room than clean ones and because I’m notorious for buying books on my trips (on the Motobécane I had two panniers, a handlebar bag and a knapsack; not much to pack)

Confirmed my credit card’s insurance coverage for the rental car (not a factor when you’re traveling by bike).

Downloaded music to my pod (none of that MP3 nonsense back in those days—we entertained ourselves, you youngsters).

Oh, also fighting a sore throat/cold. Not surprised that my resistance went to hell, but I’m trying to trick myself into forgetting all about that.

So—final day at work before setting out. I can not wait.

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