Rollin' Like Sisyphus

Back To It

Posted in The Fail Pail by Huckleberry on February 25, 2015
Falling down is a routine, of sorts...

Falling down is a routine, of sorts…

There’s nothing quite as awful and debilitating as returning to BUSINESS AS USUAL following a few days off, even if those few days off were spent mired in other bullshit. The first five minutes of walking back to the office, trying to climb back into the comfort of a routine — any routine — makes you feel like you’ve had your kneecaps bashed in, your ankles popped, Louisville Sluggers shattered across your spine and chest, while being utterly punch-drunk from the chin, up.
Good morning, as they say.
Worse is coming back to it from a road trip, a thing of nearly unadulterated unaccountability and irresponsibility, to a thing (like a job or a family or, I guess, living) that is the complete opposite of those things.
I haven’t looked too closely on what I missed since a rather sudden departure I hadn’t planned on Friday night. However, it’s worth noting that three more bankers slipped this mortal coil under at least questionable circumstances. I’ll update the tracker accordingly. Oh, and the last hiking banker who died in a blizzard in the mountains alone after being dropped off in a blizzard alone by her VP banker husband also apparently had a broken (or as I choose to refer to it, sabotaged) emergency beacon.
So what’s fallen apart in my blissfully ignorant absence?


2 Responses

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  1. El Borak said, on February 25, 2015 at 11:44

    Sunday about dinner time I was actually on a plane about to head for Austin with a quick stopover in Dallas. It was the usual business travel: couple of days at a conference hosted in an enormously-expensive hotel. The plane was a bit late coming from Dallas, so I talked to the ticket guy* and we got my connecting flight changed. There is one TV in the ticket area, with this show playing on it. Not really comforting. Plus the plane was late because of that nasty ice storm coming. I went thru security. One TV in the waiting room. Same show.

    So anyway, we got on the plane about 45 minutes late and I started wondering if I was going to miss my newly-scheduled connecting flight. Another few minutes passed and the captain told us that there appeared to be something wring with the reverse thruster on one engine. It would either be a 2-minute fix or we would have to deplane. 2 minutes later, we deplaned. Flight cancelled.

    There are only 2 flights a day from JPL to Dallas**, one at 6am, one at 5-ish pm. Due to the ice that had not quite reached Dallas yet, the morning flight was also cancelled. I talked to the ticket guy again (that bloody airplane-crashing show was still on) and he figured the earliest he could get me to Dallas was Tuesday morning and even that was iffy. So I could turn around and fly home that afternoon. Thank you, no.

    So I didn’t take my trip and it’s a good thing, because apparently Austin flights were cancelled along with a million others, and short of renting a car to drive from Dallas to Austin in an ice storm, I would have sat in the Dallas airport until yesterday.

    But at least I would have had company. My oldest son, flying back to KC from Vegas on Sunday, was re-routed at the last minute because of some other flight cancellations. To Dallas. Where he was stuck in the airport until yesterday.

    * who is also the baggage loader. It’s a small airport.
    ** and 0 flights from JPL to anywhere else.

  2. Huckleberry said, on February 25, 2015 at 13:05

    with this show playing on it

    That’s almost surreal.
    Few things are worse than being stuck in an airport for any extended amount of time, although some airports are better than others.
    Oddly enough, Richmond has, hands down, the best airport I’ve ever been in, which is fortunate because I once had to spend 17 hours there as a victim of a confluence of circumstances similar to your own.
    Worst airport was either Atlanta or Cincinnati, the latter mostly because it inexplicably straddles two states with quite different prohibitions on certain items — luck of the draw on which gate your plane taxis to whether you’re good (Kentucky) or screwed (Ohio).
    These days, though, I much prefer staying home, which I’m immensely envious you got to do.

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