“Weren’t you just here?” asks the woman checking my bag at the Southwest counter. “It feels like I just saw you here last week.”
She’s close. It has been two weeks since I last flew out of Oakland, but wow. When someone who sees countless droves of people come through her line daily recognizes me out of thousands, you know you simply travel too much.
I’ve definitely been cleared for take-off.
Travel isn’t limited to work these days – I’ve had a summer of weekend warrior trips as well. I arrived home late yesterday afternoon and immediately began what is now accepted routine: unpack, do a load of laundry, and repack. I'm not going to lie to you, it is starting to take a toll.
To survive, you simply go on auto-pilot. My toiletry bag is never emptied, just restocked. I’ve found my favorite products in handy travel sizes. Clothes get stuffed in space bags to maximize my clothing options. My car practically drives itself to the Executive Lot in Oakland or Park SFO.
At security I’m considered an expert traveler. Liquids in my purse are always less than three ounces and remain in a plastic quart size bag even when I’m on land. I can tell you where the Peet’s Coffee stands are located at both SFO and OAK, as well as Wells Fargo ATM machines.
I own travel iPod speakers and don’t leave home without them so I can surround myself with one thing that reminds me of home, music. There isn’t any way to replicate my husband while traveling, and that is the hardest part of all.
It is a lonely life at times, a frustrating one at others. But mostly, it is exciting and I’m lucky to have a job that allows me the chance to travel to amazing places. Some days you just have to remind yourself this more than others.
