and now a word from my sponsor … my husband mike

This week I had the super-happy opportunity to stay at a local hotel. No, Linda didn’t kick me out, though she may not have been that sad that I left for the evening. Either way, I decided it was easier to stay at the beautiful Hilton O’Hare overnight for our 7:00 a.m. board meeting the next day – for which I am ultimately responsible — than get up waaaaay early at home and race out toward the airport.

 

You think airport hotels are depressing? Yes, they are. You couldn’t be righter. The only thing I enjoy about traveling to another city for work is watching the local news, just to make fun of the news readers all by myself in my quiet room. But I wasn’t in another city. I was at O’Hare! It doesn’t work as well when the local news is your own. Hell, I can make fun of them at home for free.

 

Come to think of it, the idea of me sitting in some far-flung Sheraton watching local TV news is fairly crushing, as well.

 

But depressing airport hotels take on an even sadder hue when they are actually in the airport itself…with holiday decorations at full display. Ugh. I know the people who work there should have some lights and festivity, just like most of our own workplaces have. But walking through the quiet terminals to get to the hotel, hearing piped-in generic holiday music under fluorescent lights, past fake trees with dull ornaments…that’s pretty bad.

 

I love coming home to Linda and her cheery and original holiday home. Granted, I was only 13 miles away, but I feel lucky to be back. I will gladly give up the Ghirardelli-knockoff chocolate on the pillow for a beagle under the covers.