So, tomorrow I get on a plane and head south for my first-ever business trip. I have been low-level stressing about this for months, high-level stressing for a few weeks, but at this point I'm just sort of fatalistically resigned slash excited. I mean, I am excited. New city, new people, new hotel, et cetera. I am also sort of mourning all of my disrupted habits in advance--I am a person who thrives on routine, and I can't stop trying to figure out how I'm going to go running every day, or get the breakfast foods I like, or read every night like I'm accustomed to. A lot of my nervousness has to do with the sheer number of new things I will need to accomplish in the next few days, from hiring a cab at the new city's airport to dealing with bellhops (how much to tip? can I just grab my own bag and go?).
Hubs ribbed me gently when I did half my packing this past weekend; I pointed out that the last time we did a big family trip by airplane I broke out in hives. At least I don't have hives, people. Not yet.
That said, I am sort of ridiculously pleased when I casually mention that I'm traveling for work. It seems like a very grownup, real-job thing to do, and while I've never really envied business travelers (and maybe even grumped that if companies didn't see the need to send their employees buzzing all over the globe, maybe we wouldn't have so many CARBON PROBLEMS), I'm still thrilled to experience the fabled Business Trip. Also the fabled Expense Account, which I sort of can't imagine myself using.
So. I'll be gone for a week. Ya'll enjoy yourselves while I'm gone.