Friday, January 14, 2011


I'm writing this live from a Holiday Inn in North Carolina. 

If I had written this post this morning it would have been titled, "Oh Barf.  I WANT TO DIE!" 
(Sometimes it is better to wait before putting your immediate thoughts on the web.) 

Anyway, the point is that I got shipped here for work this week, and it has only been a 3 night stay, but that's still longer than I've ever been away from my girlies, and I have been SUCH a baby about this that you'd think they'd made me do a tour of duty in Afghanistan.  I'm not kidding -- when I am feeling sorry for myself, I try to think of soldiers and remember how easy I have it.  But it doesn't always help, because I think of those people who haven't even met their babies, and all I can think is AAAAACK!  I COULDN'T DO IT!  HOW DO THEY DO IT?  So yeah, maybe not so helpful to my self-pitying psyche.

I did have some legitimate reasons to complain, though, since I've been working 12 hour days in a secured work room where we are not alllowed to go to the bathroom without an escort and they provide no rations but water. (Yes, we break for lunch.)  Yet somehow I also feel like I've probably gained 10 lbs. here, because when they do let us out, it's all restaurant food and junk food and stress and boredom eating.  Also, for confidentiality reasons I won't discuss the project itself except to say:  CURE FOR INSOMNIA. 

None of that matters at all in comparison to the fact that I tweaked a teeny-tiny muscle in my back yesterday and ended up in such debilitating pain last night that I called Joe crying and slept with the cell phone next to the bed because I found it within the realm of possibility that I might have to text someone for help in the morning.  Fortunately it didn't come to that, and I'm fine now, but yeah, at 8 a.m. when I was taking meds and logging on for another 12-hour day with my butt planted in the same chair I was not a happy camper.  

Okay.  End of pity party.  Joe could probably really use a relief pitcher by now, and I am on the next plane outta here!    


Ann said...

My brother-in-law has been in Iraq twice and Afghanistan once and I'm pretty sure he wasn't ever in a lockdown like you are. Hope your back feels better and you get the heck outta there!

Emily said...

Um, as I recall from my firm days, they're at least supposed to put you up in a swanky business hotel, which the Holiday Inn is not. You should at least be getting to eat the kind of fancy breakfast where they bring you jam in your own mini jam jar.