Who Lives Like This Anyway

Tonight (which really isn’t going to be correct because I will publish this for tomorrow. It makes more sense to call it tonight, because it’s tonight for me. I’m tired. I’m going to rely on you to keep up here)

Anyway, as I was saying. . . Tonight I am sitting in the Maple Leaf lounge and trying not to fall asleep and/or weep from exhaustion. I wish I could tell you that it was because I have been incredibly busy, or that I was stressed, or that I am super duper important and the present fatigue is in some way related to this, but the honest truth is  . . .

I came home from working at a client site and between the subject matter and working with a new modeler in ARIS who is struggling, my brain was full. I laid on my bed and read and then dozed and then I went and ate my weight in polenta at the concierge lounge and then I walked to the Starbucks that always gets my order wrong but is attached to a co-op with the most amazing stained glass and then I wandered home and then I started working.

Which I did, pretty steadily for the next two and a half hours.

At any rate, then I read for a bit and then I laid on my bed and watched the lights of the city and tried not to think what it meant that I was so entranced by moving lights that I could lay there for almost an hour and not have a single coherent or intelligent thought during that time.

Even if you account for the fact I didn’t have to leave the hotel until 9:30 am this morning, which I assure you was an accounting I made when my alarm went off this morning, it turns out that six hours of sleep is not actually enough sleep to keep me functioning.

So, I’m sitting in the lounge waiting to catch my flight which does not board for another hour, and I am drinking coffee with free Bailey’s in it and hoping that I can stay awake long enough to get on my flight and I have to tell you that it’s not working and I think I should just switch to wine.

But, that’s not really why I’m writing this. Here’s the thing. At about 2:30 this afternoon, one of the people I have been working with walked over to the desk I was sitting at and she said:

Can I bring you a nice cup of tea and a home made cream puff?

Maybe I should explain. Probably I should explain. On a good day, for a good client, people are nice to me. They say please and thank you and they seemingly appreciate the work I do and the advice I offer. That’s cool when it happens, but I have to tell you, no one has ever brought me a nice cup of tea. I don’t think everyone has ever actually brought me a crappy cup of coffee. I might have been the victim of a lukewarm and cloudy glass of water in a paper cup a few years ago. A nice cup of tea? I didn’t know such a thing could be had at a client site.

The homemade cream puff was sublime. Even if it was terrible, it would have been sublime, and it actually was very good. It had cream and pastry and a nice little bit of chocolate and it was perfect for that 2:30 pm doldrum you find yourself in when your food intake to that point has been a fiber one bar and about three zillion cups of coffee.

I could have kissed that woman.

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2 Responses to Who Lives Like This Anyway

  1. loribeth says:

    I could have too. 🙂 Yum!!

  2. Ms. Fab says:

    I shall remember this. A nice cup of tea. Done. The cream puff? I can’t promise that but I can do a nice cup of tea.

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