Travelling Sucks

I am starting to wonder if I made a big mistake in my travel plans this week. I went down to Ft. Worth on Sunday to cover a shoot and left on Wednesday morning to head back to Portland as I thought it would be good to spend a day at home before I went to Scotland for 10 days. By the time I got to the office I was swamped with meetings and didn't get home until late. I only had time to pack and spend an hour or two with the family before I had to wake up and head out on an early flight to NY. I also missed out on the Tiger shoot day to travel home. I really don't like travelling, so I am now thinking it would have been a better idea to have headed to NY from Ft. Worth and cut out the trip back to Portland. Being away from home for two weeks is not great, but I could have cut out almost eight hours of flight time.

Why would I be so eager to cut out eight hours on a plane? This morning as I was boarding, the guy in my row filled up all the overhead space with bags and coats. I suggested he put something under his seat so others could share the bin and he looked at me like I was crazy. Luckily there was still space for me to put up my bag across the aisle, but I was one of the first on the plane. By the time all the people on the row were on, it was full and this older lady had no where to put her bag. She tried to push it in by his coats and he said, "I really don't want my jackets crushed like that." She asked if he could remove them so she wouldn't have to check her bag (they were not offering gate check, so she would now be adding at least half an hour to her trip getting it at the baggage carousel). He looks at her and says, "I guess you'll have to check it." Class move. I guess travel brings out the best in all of us.