One More Week
In about three quarters of an hour I will leave the house for one more week on the road. One more week of living from a bag in a hotel. One more week away from my family. One more week either sitting alone in restaurants, or sitting alone in my room with food from a convenience store.
It’s odd how you form a routine when you travel often. I will get to the hotel room this evening, hang my clothes up, and place my case somewhere out of the way. I have packed exactly enough sets of clean clothes to see me through the week. I will have no options around what I might wear on a given day, or a given evening.The part of my brain that likes lists is rubbing it’s hands in glee.
As each day passes, clothes will be folded, and placed back into the bag – leaving me on the final evening with a bag which has been re-filled, and a single set of clothes to wear in the morning.
To while away the 5 hour train journey I will read books on the Amazon Kindle my other half bought mefor my birthday two years ago – which was coincidentally delivered to a hotel in Scotland, becauseI was away with work.
When I first started travelling around the place with work, it happened once or twice a year, and was exciting in a way. Staying in hotels was a new experience. Travelling on trains was a novelty. Fifteen years on, and the travel has turned into a marathon. I’ve only been home for weekends since Christmas. Quite how I’m supposed to remember anything I have done after being thrown at a different room full of people every week for several months is a mystery to me.
You become good at “winging it”. Learning on your feet, while not letting on to an audience that you’re not quite as all-knowing, or all-knowledgeable as they might imagine. You also start to daydream about doing something entirely different.
I would love to write. I’ve been a “blogger” for the better part of seventeen years now, but I have no English degree, and no training. I just like to write. It’s an escape within my own head. Going by Stephen King’s advice, reading lots and writing lots are supposed to count for something – so there’s that at least. That and four thousand forgettable blog posts filled with the mundane thoughts of a father, husband, and colossal nerd.
Late last week one of the founders of BlogLovin’ invited me to try out some top secret new features in their site (they are pivoting towards being the nextMedium). While throwing a few words in their direction, I started to wonder about this whole “blogging” thing – wondering if it could lead to another career or not. I’m not entirely sure than any employer would want to hire a staff writer to record the minutiae of every-day life.
Anyway. I need to leave for the station in about half an hour. Better make sure I have everything (of course I know I do – I’m just doing the paranoid double-check).