…before I sleep

“Seventy-six more miles?” I whined, talking to Anna on my cell phone as I sped toward my destination. “I’m ready now,” I continued to pout.

“Is there traffic?” she asked and I replied in the negative.

“I should be there in about an hour,” I said and admired the landscape – the trees were quite pretty once I crossed the river that’s mighty. It grew darker around me as I grew closer to my hotel, finally locating the building, handing the keys to the valet and checking in.

I poked experimentally at the bed, pleased with the fluffy comforter and adjustable mattress settings. I chose the office chair over other furniture, and began to work. I sent emails and reviewed my talk. I answered my work phone and made final arrangements for my visit. I crawled into bed rather early, watching television until my eyelids grew heavy and I drifted off to sleep, snuggled into pillows and under blankets.

I woke with a gasp of alarm just after midnight, not knowing where I was or why I was here. I looked around and sighed as I eased back into my nest, having jerked upright upon being disturbed. I reached for the alarm clock and pulled it closer, unable to see the numbers without my glasses. I left my fingers curled around the edge of the plastic timekeeper and calculated how much time was left to sleep.

“Six hours,” I murmured, trying not to think too hard. If my meeting was at 8, I planned despite myself, I should acquire breakfast at 7:30. I was going to shower, but not wash my hair. I’d wear glasses, not contacts and just iron my hair straight.

“Seven hours,” I corrected myself, deciding I could sleep longer. With a smile, I relaxed into dreams again, but rolled out of bed before 6 anyway.

“90 minutes,” I told myself silently before offering a firm mental reminder to stay focused on the topic at hand. I took more notes, asked more questions and offered more answers. And the time passed quickly before I had to walk across campus.

“I don’t want to keep you much longer,” I said, seeing that only 13 minutes remained of my lecture that I turned into a conversation with the people who crowded the hall. “But I did want to chat about works in progress and get a bit of feedback in our overall direction.” The man in the middle caught my eye again, nodding encouragingly and I grinned in his direction. It was a friendly crowd – laughing loudly at jokes, asking good questions (only some of which I could answer) and offering excellent advice.

“One more,” I told my reflection as I washed my hands. “You’re doing well,” I offered a compliment, pleased I wasn’t utterly exhausted, but recognizing that I was ready to be done. But I took the last meeting, nodded when the woman said she appreciated how serious I was and how many notes I was taking, and wrote some more issues and questions down.

“My head is bothering me,” I told my escort. “Can we get dinner now?” He’d spoken of getting some work done and while I wanted to beg off the whole event, I knew I had to share a meal to finish the day of making nice with the important people. They were delightful though and I did get some delightful soup and mediocre carrot cake.

“Almost there,” I shifted my bag to my other shoulder as I walked, wincing at the weight of my stupid PC laptop and the sketchbook I carry for notes. I tugged the door open and walked through the lobby to the elevator that would carry me to my room. I folded the clothes I removed, placing them neatly in my suitcase. I swallowed two pills for my head and showered until the pain eased. I’m now in pajamas and with a new presentation to make.

One more day and a drive home to go.