Strikes are a pain in the ass.
Yesterday on my way to meet a colleague at the airport, we found out that yet another goddamn Italian strike is taking place at the airport today, cancelling our reserved flight tickets which we had been assured we could pay for the day before (long story). I ran all over the frickin' airport in heels for 3 hours trying to find a flight for my colleague that gets him to Rhodos by today, since he had meetings on Sunday morning, and then trying to find another two practically non-existent flights on Sunday for me and another colleague before the conference starts on Sunday night. I now have two ripped blisters on the backs of my heels which bleed through my socks into strangely eye pleasing patterns. (After 17 years of ballet and pointe shoes, I don't notice when I rip blisters on my feet: it takes ripping a new blister on top of the previously ripped blister for me to pay any attention. Sort of like almost getting a stress fracture before you get your aching shin splits looked at by your orthopedist...I digress)
So I'm off to Rhodos tomorrow bright and early. Okay, so early for me means rolling out of bed at 8 am to leave at 9. I usually don't haul my ass out of bed until at least 10 am. Which mean this week is going to be an exercise in "Can she resist the temptation to throw her alarm clock out the window, and, more importantly, will she remember that her cell phone *is* her alarm clock, therefore it would be more prudent to pluck her lazy ass out of bed and turn the squealing piece of technology off in an appropriate manner?"
6 days of 5 star hob-nobbing and networking, which, in this field, tends to degenerate into a game of "Who can get Cirrhosis of the Liver first?" and "Who can get the highest bar tab and still write it off for tax purposes?" after 6pm. Before 6 pm, it's all business and key words and paradigm shifts in future market trends....ick. Consider my fake shit-eating customer service grin to be (mostly) in place for the next week. Here's hoping my big mouth doesn't get me in trouble.
Time to go squeeze a buttload of promotional materials in with my clothes and shoes and toiletries.
Wish me, luck y'all. A dopo...
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