…and the rest is history

I think I’ll give you a break from regularily scheduled programming to whine a bit about something I really need not whine over: hotels and conventions. I’m stuck at one today and tomorrow (and last night, ugh), and I’m already about ready to fake an illness so that I can go home early. Of coure, since we’ve driven down in group, I don’t have a car and probably would just get stuck sitting in my room watching bad TV and writing even worse posts.

I hate these trips. I’m somewhat awkward at our big group dinners that everyone insists on doing even though none of us actually spend time with each other, ever, including at work. I have to struggle though endless sectionals with bad speakers and even worse presentation topics, looking as if I’m hanging on every word and not quite getting why exactly these people and topics are going to help me, or anyone else for that matter. I usually do start with a better attitude, but I can’t today. I’ve been up since 3:37 a.m. (no, that’s not normal, thank God) and I’ve been rushing all week so that I can get here and sit for two days. The newspaper won’t be able to go out this week and I won’t be there when the inevitable problems arise at school since I was dumb enough to start the kidlets on a new way of handling production the week before I left. Dumb.

I think I’m also being a shit because I’ve been so happy the last few days, thinking that this may be the last time I’m going to feel that since I don’t have a kidlet at home to take care of, I might as well go since no one else wants to and a body is needed.

Oh, well. Life could be much, much worse. I’ve got a big room, a not-so-bad roommate for the trip and I remember to bring the latest book I’m reading: Inside Transracial Adoption. I highly suggest it so far–especially if you’re like me, in need of a good resource book that has wonderful reading lists throughout.