No Lifeguard on Duty

I’m in yet another hotel this week. Two different hotels and it’s only Wednesday.

I’m getting really good at operating the remote controls on the hotel TVs. I dread the day I get home and automatically press the power-menu-asterisk sequence on my Tivo.

I cancelled my gym membership the other day. Three reasons:

First, I’m never home anymore.
(2) my apartment building just opened a really nice gym and
c. All the hotels I’ve been staying in have ‘fitness centers’.

Yeah, like I’m going to remember to bring my work-out clothes on a business trip. I’ve been running around the state of Illinois with my underpants in a laptop case.

And what’s with all these indoor pools in hotels? I never see anyone in them but squirmy, squealy little kids. Watch out kids – the sign says ‘No Lifeguard on Duty.’
So don’t even think about drowning.

I never see any adult-type persons swimming in there. Probably because we wouldn’t know what to do with a wet swim suit. Like I’m going to bring a swimsuit and then drive three hundred miles with a wet swimsuit stuffed in my laptop case.

I have learned that one of God’s greatest creations was probably these two words:

Room Service

Oh my goodness, I cherish and adore Room Service.

After a long day of business meetings and ‘networking’ and putting out fires by remote-access, there’s nothing better than having a meal brought to my door on a nice tray.

After ten hours of feigning interest, the last think I want to do is to talk to anyone -- even a server at Applebee's.

(My per diem doesn't quite cover a room service meal, but I don't care. It's an expense I gladly cover on my own.)

Tomorrow, I will be back in Chicago, will get to go to choir rehearsal with eccentric musicians and then sleep on my own sofa.

I just hope I remember how to work the Tivo.