I like to think I am a mature professional woman. I have traveled as a business woman alone for the past 25 years, yet it never gets easier. My guess is that I cannot be quiet for too long.
Sunday morning I left home headed for Dover, Delaware. I am working for a great company, ready to grow together to be great. I am thrilled to be here but there is almost a six hour drive between us. Six hours of me singing alone in my car, stopping five times to relieve the stress of New Jersey driving and an endless flow of Starbucks coffee.
That being said, I want to let you into the psyche of an Italian woman traveling alone.
- Driving: always check the back seat, the trunk and under the car for someone who of course, is waiting to jump out and grab you at the Clara Barton rest stop on the NJ Turnpike. They have passed up the other 598 cars parked there and have singled me out for abduction.
- Hotels: Hotels are a hot bed of danger for superstitious, paranoid Italian women like me. I hit the jackpot this time with an adjoining door to the room next door. Now I need to find two moveable heavy items to block both the front door and the adjoining door. What a stressful night and I gave up chocolate for Lent. No comfort.
- Dinner: I started traveling for work in 1990. I used to go to the hotel restaurant or a local place and sit and read a book and have dinner. A handful of times I was approached for “a drink” or dinner and gracefully declined. Then I stopped going out and ordered room service sitting in my jammies safe and warm. Tonight, I walked over to a local place and thought I would sit and catch up on email, order a drink and have dinner. I sat in a booth in the corner and sipped a lovely dirty martini. I felt so ‘off’ so I ordered dinner to go and took my salad back to my room to enjoy in my jammies, safe and warm! Table for one is just not for me.
My poor Audi wagon was having some engine trouble and was taken to a local Delaware dealer for service. Thank you Amanda for the ride to my hotel and yet again back to the office tomorrow morning. I was sad to have you leave me, once again, by the off chance that a rogue tornado or coastal flood over takes my hotel and without a car I will be stranded here left to die.
I have my sneakers and running gear laid out and ready to go….just in case.
Hello and welcome.
Simply knowing you can’t do something, even if you have no need or desire to do said “something” is rough. The struggle is real for independent women! 😉 …and you’re quite welcome for the rides!