I am so incredibly tense right now. My stomach hurts, I'm anxious, I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't drink. (Baha! Just kidding on those last two.) I'm a wreck. And there is one concrete cause of all of this anxiety. Sigh...it's hard to say out loud and/or type. Ok. I can do this. Here we go. I, Meghan C. McBlogger........................am going on another business trip this week.
If you haven't read about the first business trip I went on a few months ago, I'm going to need you to go ahead and close and lock your door, draw the shades, light some candles, unzip your pants and read this. And when you're done, you can send your thank you/sympathy e-cards to firstname.lastname@example.org. Thanks.
The level of how anxious I am for this stupid business trip is unparalleled. Unparalleled and embarrassing. Nothing in the entire world makes me feel as Autistic as a work function. I revert back to lame 6th grade Meg, sittin' all alone at the lunch table with nary a friend to her name and a whole lot of Joe Boxer going on. I'm praying to the good Lord above that this trip won't be as completely traumatic as the last one was, and I think it might not be for the following reasons:
1.) It's in Baltimore. Which is just inconveniently far away enough to classify as a "business trip" and not a "jaunty overnight."
2.) I have been promised my own hotel room. Although I'll believe it when I see it because that's what they said last time and I ended up visually scissoring with Boss #1 all night long. I didn't even want to stay in a hotel in the first place. The second I heard we would be in Baltimore, I threw myself onto Boss #2's laptop and was like, "DON'T BOOK ME A ROOM!!!!1 MY BIFFLES^MAX LIVES IN HAMPDEN!!!!11 I'LL STAY WITH HER!!! SHE WEARS PANTS!!!1 AND DOESN'T CARE IF I DON'T WEAR MINE!!!!1 THAT'S THE DICHOTOMY I PREFER!!!!!1111!" Boss #2 said OK and then immediately turned around and booked me a hotel room. Which is annoying because now not only am I at high-risk of having a reunion with Boss #1's C-section scar, I also feel locked into going in general. Every time I start toying with the idea of "getting" swine flu tonight or killing off a family member, I remember they already booked me a hotel room and that would kind of be a dick move on my part. Ugh. Being an amazingly considerate person...it's my cross to bear.
3.) The trip is only for two days; not three. Which is still two days too many, but I'll take what I can get.
4.) I made cocksure I'll be traveling alone. Because there's no way in hell I'm going to be trapped backwards on a train again at 8 o'clock in the morning listening to Russell the Homophobic Co-Worker talk about various spreads and chutneys he boycotts because they "taste like sperm." No. Fucking. Way. I will drive myself, thank you.
5.) It's a convention, not a 500-hour long sales meeting. And conventions are big...people get lost easily. Perhaps they'll get lost for two days at a time, finding their way back only when a free meal is involved...? What I'm trying to say is that I am in no way above hiding in my car either reading a book and/or cat-napping like a homeless person all day. There it is. The truth. I just don't see what's stopping me from being like, "Oh hey, I'm gonna go check out some other booths" and just leaving? Trust me, nobody would miss me. There is absolutely no reason for me to go to this convention besides familiarizing myself with our new product. You know, the new product I already learned about in the aforementioned 500-hour long sales meeting. All just in case the ghosts I babysit on a daily basis get curious and start to ask questions or someone in Dynasty needs their office re-designed. (Season 3: Adam Carrington re-designs recently deceased Cecil Colby's office with toxic paint in an effort to kill Jeff Colby and secure his position as Blake's #2. AND WHAT?!)
The thing is, I really am genuinely interested in interior design and the actual convention itself seems cool enough. Not to mention I'm going to have promotional pens and complimentary mints coming out the ying-yang by the time it's over. That's not what I'm getting bent out of shape about. It's the mingling with my co-workers and the pleasantries and the asking of how the kids are and forcing myself to appear interested in the answer and the being so completely surrounded by Sales People. And that's Sales People with a capital S, capital P. Because yowzahs. That is a tall order. I realize how incredibly curmudgeon-y I'm coming off right now, but as Helena pointed out last night on the phone (and yes, at approximately 11 o'clock last night I was indeed curled up in my bed with the lights off on the phone with Helena whining that my tummy hurt because I'm nervous for my business trip.) (And bless her heart for listening.) there's a difference between Work Socializing and Social Socializing. And Lord knows I can Social Socialize your fucking face off. I can walk into a room of 150 Neo-Nazis with a beer in my head and a song in my heart and leave with each one of those motherfuckers my new and slightly less anti-Semitic best friends. However, I go to one work happy hour and it's like a regional dinner theater production of Rain Man. My undeniable charm and charisma just does not translate in work-related situations. However, if I can inject a bit of Social Socializing into Work Socializing, I might be able to make it out of this business trip alive. Thus, if there are any readers out there who will be attending NeoCon East this week and want someone to walk around and mingle with—I'm your girl.
...Or if there are any readers who want to come and spoon with me in my car and tell ghost stories for 8 hours—I'm also your girl. (Teresa, I'm looking at you.)
Obviously, blogwise, I'll be out of commission tomorrow and Thursday, but Co-Blogger Chris is finally back from Mexico and will have a post for you bright and early tomorrow morning! I'm also trying to "gently" coerse Tulane Chris into writing a post for Thursday. I gave him two subject options: Diarrhea or blouses. Because that's what kind of girl I am and that's what kind of a blog I run.
Also! As with last time, I'll be live-tweeting the entire business trip, so I highly recommend you follow me on Twitter (@2birds1blog). If you don't have a Twitter account, you should obviously get one for the sole purpose of keeping up-to-date with the business trip's inevitable kooky shenanigans. (I figure if I hype this up enough, nothing will happen and it'll be an incredibly boring business trip which means I won't go through the emotional trauma of last time. Unless it backfires and it's just as entertaining as I promised, in which case you win and I lose. Either way, follow me on twitter.)