The price of luxury

In my old job, I was always on the road… buses to New York, driving to Philly, flights to Atlanta and about a half dozen trips a year to Boston.  There wasn’t any money for hotels, so I just stayed with people who worked in each city and hoped they had a couch or something.  Some did, others didn’t.  My favorite place to stay was the Walker Center, a campus-like retreat in Auburndale Massachusetts, about 45 minutes outside of Boston, that was once used as a training ground for missionaries.  We stayed there for a number of trainings when it was available, and it had quite the cozy, insular feel to it (they even cooked breakfast for guests every morning).  Still, even there, we stayed two to a room — a cramped little room, and one bathroom per floor which made showering each morning… interesting.

I’ve been with my new job for a little over three months now, and this is the first night I’ve had to spend away from home.  The circumstances couldn’t be more different.  I reserved a room on the company card (just at a Days Inn, but still), and I’m currently sitting in my room watching MSNBC post-debate coverage.  I stopped along the way and picked up a package of pretzels and a cheap bottle of Chardonnay ($6.49), plus one of those plastic corkscrews that almost didn’t work.  All in all, the makings for a very comfortable night away from home.

Still, it’s amazing how we adjust to changing circumstances.  Sure, it’s nice here and everything, but I’m on the first floor, and only have a view of the parking lot.  And the remote to the TV is missing, meaning I have to change the channels manually.  Plus, there are too few outlets in here, which means I had to unplug the alarm clock in order to use my laptop.  But I don’t think I’m complaining just for the sake of complaining.

See, I just got off the phone from an hour long conversation with one of my former co-workers in Atlanta, and one of the people I stayed with when I traveled down there (studio apartment, small futon).  While I was on the phone with him, I missed a couple other calls from one of my old Philly colleagues (studio apartment and a hardwood floor for me).  I hated traveling for that job — hated the lack of sleep, the constant work, the responsibility — but…

Yeah, I guess I’m glad to be here, and it’s nice to be (well, relatively) spoiled by a job that affords me the luxury of a bed when I travel.  Still… it wouldn’t be so bad to be stuck in the Walker Center right now playing Celebrity or Apples to Apples with the people I stay in touch with by phone. In fairness though, drinking a $6.49 bottle of wine seems consistent.