I used to enjoy business travel so much. I never had the stomach churning feeling of watching the meter’s constant ticking as I sat in traffic getting to the airport because my company was footing the bill. And as long as I stayed within the daily allowance for food, I felt like I had Monopoly money to buy whatever I wanted. Five-dollar water bottle? Sure I’ll take one. Three-dollar Twix family size bar? Yep, hit me up. Fifteen bucks for three cubes of mild yellow cheddar (truly the enemy of good cheese), four stone wheat crackers and twelve grapes? Jeez that’s a ripoff, but yeah.
Last year I traveled to San Francisco, Costa Rica, and Vegas on business trips. Now I know those are all fabulous destinations that many people visit on their own dime, including me. And even though I’ve always managed to maximize the destination experience by squeezing in at least one fun excursion, delicious tasting or shopping adventure, business trips for salespeople pack a serious punch. Imagine constant networking with a ton of talking, multiple wardrobe changes, back-to-back meetings, and events, and smiling incessantly from early in the morning until way past dinnertime. Honestly sometimes I get tired of hearing myself speak. There isn’t a lot of time to recharge, and for an extroverted introvert like me, while I find conferences essential and hugely productive, they are also challenging and exhausting.
Imagine a three-day visit to visit gorgeous Scottsdale, Arizona in February while it’s minus 3 degrees in New York. Now picture a stunning pool, waterfall and striped yellow and white umbrellas over empty chairs screaming your name while you sit impatiently in an overly air-conditioned ballroom with 100 other colleagues for eight hours straight learning about treasury management. Just make the meeting near the Pittsburgh airport and stoppit with the torture!
Today was a dose of my new reality. At least my entry to the Delta Sky Club is still active…for now. So I helped myself to free cucumber infused water and slid a bagel with two Philly packets into my overstuffed carryon for the flight. Although there’s no place like home, a trip to see The Mothership is a close second. And I’ll get to see my Dad who lives close by. AND this might be my new home state sooner rather than later.
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