- Are we there yet? -

On a particularly busy week, I’ll find myself on all three modes of transportation.  Usually one a day, and usually spread out.

So if I’ve been on all three in a single day, does that mean my week is pretty much over?  (I wish).  That was the case of yesterday…

It started with a painful 4:00 am wakeup call from the front desk, alerting us that our driver had arrived.  In a fury, we rushed about the hotel room throwing items into our suitcases, brushing our teeth while getting dressed, and forgetting items (RIP MacBook charger).  With our eyes barely open, we shuffled into the car for the quick drive to the airport, and shuffled out through check-in, security, and onto the plane.

Husband falls asleep immediately.  I stare out the window listlessly, watching the clear blue water grow father from me as we ascend into the sky.  I try to sleep, but the obnoxious growling of my stomach prevented me from returning to the land of Nod.  Instead, I sip water, read the same sentence from The President’s Club 20 times, and strain my neck to see if the drinks cart is anywhere need me.

Pablo, the lovely flight attendant, passes me a black tea with lemon, a ginger ale, and a Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwich.  I tear into the sandwich, down the ginger ale like a college kid would chug a beer, and sip the tea as quickly as I could without burning my tongue.  The four-hour flight slowly ticks by, but multiple cups of tea and my two books (I flipped between the aforementioned and The Power of Habit), and a quick nap help pass the time.

We land.  We meander our way through Newark Liberty, onto our parking lot shuttle, and quickly to our car.  After a spat with the GPS, we’re finally Lincoln Tunnel-bound and back home at our apartment.

Now, this is the time where I would throw on sweats, plop on the couch, and succumb to a Real Housewives marathon.  My husband has other ideas – unpacking, opening mail and packages, and forcing me to repack.  I’m rewarded with watching Fareed Zakaria GPS  while eating a hastily cooked Eggs in Inferno.

My plans for a long afternoon on the couch are further thwarted by a visit to the gym, the right choice in hindsight as I would spend most of the day seated in some form of transportation.  After a quick shower and taming my crazy Indian hair, it was time for me to inhale a Seamless-delivered meal and head to Penn Station.

And get on, yet, another mode of transportation.

Confession – I hate trains.  Particularly the evening ones, that haven’t been cleaned since morning.  After meandering up and down the aisle of multiple cars, I settle next to a seemingly-pleasant young woman.  Suitcase above, tote below, and jacket on lap, I finally surrender to a nap – only to wake up to an interesting rendition of Nikki Minaj’s Superbass.

Homegirl next to me is apparently practicing for the next audition of American Idol/The Voice/X Factor, because I am serenaded by her performing hip hop’s latest jams the rest of the ride.  I could have dug up my headphones and zoned out to a chill Songza playlist, but this was too good to pass up.

The train finally pulls into Boston Back Bay.  I promptly click on Uber on my iPhone and schedule a car, as my experience with Boston cabbies have been torturous (to put it kindly).  A perfectly pleasant gentleman pulls up in a Town Car, offers me water and mints, and whisks me to my hotel quickly and calmly.

As I unpack and settle into the room, I start to relax and unwind – until I remember that the next five weeks look a lot like today.

Awesome.