Walking on, walking on broken gla-a-a-ass
Oh my word, this trip is kinda kicking my ass. Case in point-- I'm in Vancouver where there a lots of fun things to do and see and EAT, and I'm electing to be a total layabout in my hotel room instead, because the idea of actually getting dressed and going outside is just too much for me. So far on this lovely 5 day trip:
Day 1: Mechanical issues in SFO, delays, lots and lots of pax yelling at me and demanding to know if they are going to hold their planes for them (it gets difficult to smile and say "I've absolutely no fucking clue" in a polite fashion after you hear that about 50 times) Blah, blah, blah, stress-y folks, energy zapped, missed our deadhead flight, and they sent us home for the night instead. Weird Day.
Day 2: They manage to get us on another flight-- there are a few different crews. Six of the crewmembers (including me) are smushed into the last row on a 737. I, of course, am in the middle seat, because pilots are silly and ridiculous and don't want to sit next to each other outside of the flight deck-- idek. I work a flight to Providence. My first class pax drop a deck of some sort of fancy schmancy playing cards so I have to crawl around on my hands and knees underneath the seats to find the stragglers, because the folks are OLD and not-very-bendable and altogether much too worried about these cards (and I don't want them to freak out more and have heart attacks or something)
Day 3: I wake up at 0500 in Providence. It's very early. Damn Eastern Time Zone. I drop a tray of glassware and glass shatters all over the galley, because I'm a horrible klutz. *sigh* We've misplaced our broom somehow so I try to sweep up the bitty shards with a spare briefing card. It's not wholly successful. I get glass in my shoes, which hides in and around the gel inserts that I wear, so I get sporadic "OW!" glass pokes for the next few hours. I get to have dinner with the family on my layover though, so that is nice!
Day 4: I fly to Vancouver. We arrive at midnight. By the time we deplane, clear customs, and get to the hotel, it's past 0100. By the time I unpack, check my email, wash up, and crawl into bed, it is 0200. It's very late. 0200 Pacific Time is 0500 Eastern Time which is what time I WOKE UP the day before. It's no wonder I have no concept of what day or time it is-- ever.
Day 5: I forgot to check the room alarm clock last night so it went off bright and early this morning-- thank you, previous occupants! Now, I'm sitting in bed in my hotel room thinking I should go outside and do something, but I can't be arsed to get up and get dressed. I really need coffee. We fly into LAX today, so maybe we'll have a movie star or something. It's going to be a long day and I'm ready to go home already. Memo to self: do not bid to work 5 day trips anymore. You hate them.
Day 1: Mechanical issues in SFO, delays, lots and lots of pax yelling at me and demanding to know if they are going to hold their planes for them (it gets difficult to smile and say "I've absolutely no fucking clue" in a polite fashion after you hear that about 50 times) Blah, blah, blah, stress-y folks, energy zapped, missed our deadhead flight, and they sent us home for the night instead. Weird Day.
Day 2: They manage to get us on another flight-- there are a few different crews. Six of the crewmembers (including me) are smushed into the last row on a 737. I, of course, am in the middle seat, because pilots are silly and ridiculous and don't want to sit next to each other outside of the flight deck-- idek. I work a flight to Providence. My first class pax drop a deck of some sort of fancy schmancy playing cards so I have to crawl around on my hands and knees underneath the seats to find the stragglers, because the folks are OLD and not-very-bendable and altogether much too worried about these cards (and I don't want them to freak out more and have heart attacks or something)
Day 3: I wake up at 0500 in Providence. It's very early. Damn Eastern Time Zone. I drop a tray of glassware and glass shatters all over the galley, because I'm a horrible klutz. *sigh* We've misplaced our broom somehow so I try to sweep up the bitty shards with a spare briefing card. It's not wholly successful. I get glass in my shoes, which hides in and around the gel inserts that I wear, so I get sporadic "OW!" glass pokes for the next few hours. I get to have dinner with the family on my layover though, so that is nice!
Day 4: I fly to Vancouver. We arrive at midnight. By the time we deplane, clear customs, and get to the hotel, it's past 0100. By the time I unpack, check my email, wash up, and crawl into bed, it is 0200. It's very late. 0200 Pacific Time is 0500 Eastern Time which is what time I WOKE UP the day before. It's no wonder I have no concept of what day or time it is-- ever.
Day 5: I forgot to check the room alarm clock last night so it went off bright and early this morning-- thank you, previous occupants! Now, I'm sitting in bed in my hotel room thinking I should go outside and do something, but I can't be arsed to get up and get dressed. I really need coffee. We fly into LAX today, so maybe we'll have a movie star or something. It's going to be a long day and I'm ready to go home already. Memo to self: do not bid to work 5 day trips anymore. You hate them.