I love a road trip. Actually, Debbie, Katy and I all love the road trip. I guess we come by it honestly from our dad. Some of my happiest childhood memories are in the back of the truck driving through the night to get to one of his favorite fishing lakes. Anyway, the last couple of days I’ve been driving from Austin to El Paso with dogs in tow. There’s nothing like the open road, pistachios, starbucks (sometimes this is licorice and pepsi with a doughnut, maybe chips, a mounds bar and well, you get the picture) and old whiney country music on the radio (this is a must). The dogs slept while I sang unabashedly.
As I made the turn on the road toward the hotel, the wheels in my mind started spinning. How am I going to get everything from the car into the hotel room? You see, my goal is always to make as few trips between the car and room as possible and I’d prefer it to be one. But, with the dogs, I know there’s no way it can be 1 trip so I start planning the logistics already in my mind. No more than 2 trips, I think. I’ll ask for a room on the ground floor. Molli’s blanket, Stella’s dog bed and my coat can go in between the handle on my suitcase. But first, I’ll need to take my laptop in. It starts to feel like the riddle where you have a Tiger, a Donkey and a bale of hay which you have to get to the other side of a bridge but you can only take 2 at a time. You can’t leave the donkey with tiger cuz the tiger will eat the donkey and you can’t leave the donkey with the hay cuz the donkey will eat the hay. Ah, but I digress, back to my dilemma. I don’t want to leave the dogs in the car while I take stuff in the room, but I don’t want to really leave the dogs in the room while I take another load from the car.
Waiting for my key during check-in gives me a few extra moments and the plan is formulated. Unfortunately, no Rooms on the ground floor, second floor it is. If I park at the end of the hotel where the room is located, we’ll have to take the stairs but to use the elevator, everything will have to be dragged through the lobby and down the hall. I choose the stairs.
Trip 1: The dogs are put on leash and something scares Stella so she starts pulling frantically and trying to get under the truck. Not starting well. She holds still long enough for me to grab my laptop, her dog bed, and their container of food. I get in the door, place the box on my shoulder and we head up the stairs. Not gracefully mind you.
Trip 2: I leave the dogs in the room with water and I head back to the car. I get my suitcase out and stuff my coat and Molli’s blanket in between the suitcase handle and grab their other container. This one contains their toys and treats. I start back in. The coat keeps falling out so I decide to put it on. The container is not so easy and I balance it awkwardly on my shoulder pressed against my face and drag my suit case up the stairs. Thump, thump, thump on the stairs the whole way. Suitcase falls sideways, I continue to drag it on it's side. At least the thumping isn’t as pronounced this way.
I get in the room and feed the dogs. As I sit, breathing heavily, to watch them eat I think: “WHY?” Why does there have to be a minimum number of trips. Sure there’s this, almost odd, sense of pride: “I got all this up here in only 2 trips- whoo hoo!” Really? Seriously? It probably would have been close to the same amount of time if I’d done 4 maybe 5 trips. And I probably wouldn’t have been as cranky ... or as sweaty.
So my intention for this week is try to look at some of my normal routines, not only from the prespective of what I’m doing and how I’m doing it but why I’m doing it the way I am, my true motivation. To not let the lure of some potential sense of “false” pride in the future, impact (ruin) my sense of mood in the present. Basically to be less cranky … and sweaty ;-)
As I made the turn on the road toward the hotel, the wheels in my mind started spinning. How am I going to get everything from the car into the hotel room? You see, my goal is always to make as few trips between the car and room as possible and I’d prefer it to be one. But, with the dogs, I know there’s no way it can be 1 trip so I start planning the logistics already in my mind. No more than 2 trips, I think. I’ll ask for a room on the ground floor. Molli’s blanket, Stella’s dog bed and my coat can go in between the handle on my suitcase. But first, I’ll need to take my laptop in. It starts to feel like the riddle where you have a Tiger, a Donkey and a bale of hay which you have to get to the other side of a bridge but you can only take 2 at a time. You can’t leave the donkey with tiger cuz the tiger will eat the donkey and you can’t leave the donkey with the hay cuz the donkey will eat the hay. Ah, but I digress, back to my dilemma. I don’t want to leave the dogs in the car while I take stuff in the room, but I don’t want to really leave the dogs in the room while I take another load from the car.
Waiting for my key during check-in gives me a few extra moments and the plan is formulated. Unfortunately, no Rooms on the ground floor, second floor it is. If I park at the end of the hotel where the room is located, we’ll have to take the stairs but to use the elevator, everything will have to be dragged through the lobby and down the hall. I choose the stairs.
Trip 1: The dogs are put on leash and something scares Stella so she starts pulling frantically and trying to get under the truck. Not starting well. She holds still long enough for me to grab my laptop, her dog bed, and their container of food. I get in the door, place the box on my shoulder and we head up the stairs. Not gracefully mind you.
Trip 2: I leave the dogs in the room with water and I head back to the car. I get my suitcase out and stuff my coat and Molli’s blanket in between the suitcase handle and grab their other container. This one contains their toys and treats. I start back in. The coat keeps falling out so I decide to put it on. The container is not so easy and I balance it awkwardly on my shoulder pressed against my face and drag my suit case up the stairs. Thump, thump, thump on the stairs the whole way. Suitcase falls sideways, I continue to drag it on it's side. At least the thumping isn’t as pronounced this way.
I get in the room and feed the dogs. As I sit, breathing heavily, to watch them eat I think: “WHY?” Why does there have to be a minimum number of trips. Sure there’s this, almost odd, sense of pride: “I got all this up here in only 2 trips- whoo hoo!” Really? Seriously? It probably would have been close to the same amount of time if I’d done 4 maybe 5 trips. And I probably wouldn’t have been as cranky ... or as sweaty.
So my intention for this week is try to look at some of my normal routines, not only from the prespective of what I’m doing and how I’m doing it but why I’m doing it the way I am, my true motivation. To not let the lure of some potential sense of “false” pride in the future, impact (ruin) my sense of mood in the present. Basically to be less cranky … and sweaty ;-)