Tired Rant

Sometimes the stars just don’t align. We’ve all had those days when everything is difficult. Shoelaces break. Your fingers won’t work correctly and you drop everything. The refrigerator master circuit board fries. You get the idea – bad stuff that is irritating but less than deadly or requiring an insurance claim.

Apparently this may be happening this trip.

All was going smoothly (well, as smoothly as air travel goes) until I hit the motel. Wow. To use one of my favorite words: interesting. I distinctly recall clicking the hotel reservation stating that I’d get the government rate and a non-smoking room. Don’t get me wrong here, I do smoke but only outside, and only while having my favorite adult beverage. I don’t generally enjoy living in what smells like an ashtray. On my last trip I wound up in a smoking room. I had to launder everything I wore just because it was in the room.

This trip I figured I was set. Silly assumption. Upon arrival, I was just in time to watch a tour bus drop off a girls’ high school basketball team. I also knew that the huge to-do at Fort Campbell had filled up the other available clot of generica hotels, making me locate up the highway somewhere in South Asscratch, Kentucky. I didn’t think this would be an issue until I find out I’m in a smoking room. I pointed out I’d reserved a non-smoking room, etc. No dice – my options at that point were to take what I got or sleep in my car.

 Today I’m creaking along on some amount of sleep measured in hours by a digit less than three. Apparently the girls’ team won, and the stench in my room of about fifteen years of smoking clients wouldn’t fade into the background. Cranking up the window air conditioner didn’t help much either. Fred is so bitter he won’t even pose for a photo.

 The good news is I’m virtually guaranteed to sleep well tonight. Right?


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