On my last few flights, I've had plane neighbors who've been chatty as heck. Shoot... tonight, I have a crick in my neck from keeping my head turned to chat with my cutie-pie, 29-yr-old, pacemaker salesperson seat neighbor. He was in 6D, I was in 6C (separated by an aisle, so a little difficult to talk to the whole flight... but he was determined, so we made it work!). In fact, ironically, this is the 2nd medical supply salesperson plane neighbor I've struck up a friendship with in the last month. And the flight attendants, they've LOVED me lately. The woman tonight went out of her way to find a spot for my wheeled bag (the one that I almost always check plane-side... except for on the big boy planes... like the 737 we flew from Philly to ATL tonight). On my last trip last month, one of the flight attendants and I struck up a big long conversation about Grey's Anatomy. And my seat neighbor on that flight was chatty as well. Then, to prove that the gods (whichever kind you prefer) really are keeping me surrounded with nice people, I find a kindly gentleman sitting in his black Suburban outside a gas station that I pulled up to to buy toothpaste. (Yes, the damn security people took mine AGAIN this afternoon. I've gone from the 6oz size to the 4oz size (both of which were thrown away at the security checkpoint) to a 1.5oz size. Too bad I'm not taking another flight now... I've got a less-than-you're-stinking-regulation-3oz-size tube now, bitches!) Anyway, so I hop out of my car and go to the door of the station... which is locked. So, I turn around to get back in the car intending to find another OPEN station. This guy in the Suburban (which would generally be kinda scary: big dark car, dark parking lot, middle of an urban area, not sure the 'tude of the 'hood) calls out to me that the station is open but I've got to go to the window. Sure enough... the clerk is hanging out there on the phone... but this station doesn't allow customers into the store. You have to make all your purchases through the window. So, I ask for my toothpaste (travel size, thank you very much) and a Diet Coke, and give her my GAA plastic to cover the $4 bill. When I turn to leave, I decided to say thanks to the nice man in the Suburban and he wished me a happy evening. Too cute.
Anyway, these gods I speak of -- my favorite kind, actually -- also keep me in perfect songs for my moods... which is a major plus to keep you in pretty-high spirits. Tonight, they gave me this one (and others... even repeats to prove a point):
It's hard to trust a stranger, but you're a stranger to yourself so who's to blame
Drown away emotion as you numb yourself from any real pain
There's nothing more real and nothing's what it seems
We're always caught in between
There's nothing left to feel, but still you cannot leave
You don't know what you need.
So anyway, sorry for those of you who've already heard about this (well, the one of you), but you're gonna have to read it again. Feel free to skip this paragraph. But I know you won't. I had a brief, but very good, meeting with Mary just before I high-tailed it out of SCE earlier today. Actually, I had to keep glancing at my watch as my departure time inched closer and closer and Mary kept talking and talking. I decided to chance it & let her go a bit longer than I intended to (and I made it in plenty of time, so even that worked out). I told Mary a couple of my frustrations (feeling unworthy, like I'm not making much of a contribution, etc.); and she assured me it was just my paranoia. She reminded me how she defended me to the CEO when he mentioned that my position didn't seem like one that could be work-from-home. She thinks I'm ultra-worthy (an all-star, I believe I said before). And she reminded me that the HR team (especially the other managers) are big fans. I believe her exact words were something like "If you left, the department would be forced into mass confusion and grind to a halt. Not that they're not capable of eventually learning, but no one other person can do all that you do." So, once again, my I'll-bend-over-backwards-to-do-whatever-you-want-me-to flexibility scores me points.
Well, my battery is dying... so, if you're looking for me, I'm at the Holiday Inn, sleeping in until the forced check-out time tomorrow. I was wondering what I could do, then, between the check-out time and when Jon gets here. But I know JUST the ticket... after I leave here, I'm heading straight to the outlet mall I passed on the way in on Monday!!! I'll be on the hunt for MY JEANS between about noon(ish) and three tomorrow. Oooh... and maybe I could even check out the Ikea while I'm over here! Now, there's a great idea.
Much luv from the only-semi-scary Holiday Inn. :)
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