Usually, when it’s time to return from a vacation, I’m overtaken by the feeling that, while I’ve been having fun, it’s time to go home. So we come home, and I go back to work at least somewhat refreshed.
But not this time.
And it’s my own fault.
When I was booking out airplane tickets, I wasn’t sure how our plans were going to develop. I knew we’d be starting in Barcelona, but I wasn’t sure what would happen afterwards. When I booked the tickets to Barcelona, I noted that the return flight would start in Barcelona, change planes in Madrid, and come back to New York.
“Aha,” I thought. “That gives me some flexibility. If I want to, I can return from Madrid.”
I ended up paying an outlandish amount at the Madrid airport to be able to return today. If I had known, I would have done something that seems to me even more outlandish: gotten up early this morning in Madrid, taken the train to Barcelona, and gotten on the plane to fly back to Madrid.
Moral of the story: when they say, ‘no changes without a penalty,’ they really mean it!
The episode reminded me of the unhappier aspects of my childhood: as I was one of the smartest kids in class, the other kids were always ready to make fun of me for any little mistake I’d make. Haw-HAW!!
So now I’m back in the Big Wormy, having busted my vacation budget by my own stupidity, with piles of work to do, and it all needs to get done by the end of the month. Not that I’ll have peace and quiet to get it done: there’s a whole Marx Brothers movie of stupid interruptions waiting in the wings. And to top it off, the air conditioning in my office was not working when I left, and I sincerely doubt it will be working tomorrow.
Finally, the following item showed up in my e-mail:
What planet are these people on?