To all of my fellow “Fly-by-the-seat-of your-pants” buddies out there, I have an epiphany. Here goes: Being organized is way overrated. Anybody who really knows me is now incredulous. I have written with longing about an organized life for the last seven years. No more. I am done with that dream and I am kissing the guilt good-bye.
It seemed like a great idea last April when contributing writer and close friend, Kristi Brown, suggested we sign up for the “She Speaks” conference in Charlotte, North Carolina. The conference is pricey, but we had lots of frequent flyer miles, so why not cash in and go? This was an opportunity to pitch the books we are writing to publishers, hear from some seasoned speakers and writers on the “how to’s” of our craft, and – hey – I am always up for a good girl trip.
For somebody like me who is “organizing challenged,” even my step-daughter Jill, who is the queen of organization could not have done the prep work any better. My suitcase was packed two nights ahead of time, my book proposal with first three chapters were sorted in appropriate folders, and Charles did all the cooking for at least a week so I could focus on my presentation. I even went to bed early the night before – for my brain function and because I read that wrinkles diminish when one looks rested. Whatever. It seemed to make sense at the time.
Kristi and I, with fresh manicures, pedicures, and the “right” business casual wardrobes, even booked our flights a day before the conference really started just so we could be rested, perky, and alert.
On my way to the airport, Kristi called to let me know Delta had canceled our flight and rebooked us on a flight for the NEXT DAY! We agreed that was not acceptable, so we searched about and discovered we could fly out of Columbus late that afternoon. The object was, of course, to arrive in Charlotte in time for bed.
So we were off…finally…only to land in Atlanta and find that our flight to Charlotte had already taken off, and due to weather, there would be no more flights out of Atlanta until Friday morning. I was astounded at sweet Kristi Brown’s assertiveness. I thought I might have to restrain her at one point as she explained to the ticket agent that this situation was simply unacceptable. The only result of all of our frustration was that he handed us both the “overnight emergency kit” which contained a Delta Airlines T-shirt, a toothbrush and a miniscule packet of toothpaste – and we are talking MIN-I-SCULE.
Trying to pep-talk each other and convince ourselves this was not so terrible, we rushed to the restroom to brush our teeth. There was not enough toothpaste to do more than brush our front teeth, so our other toothies just had to make the best of it.
I am a lipstick and earrings kind of girl. I don’t much like to sleep straight up in an airport vinyl chair in the clothes I have worn for 16 hours, mascara smeared like raccoon eyes, and this sensation that my teeth are covered in something slimy. At 4:30 am, we gave up on sleep, ate greasy food at the only place open at that hour and tried hard not to stare at the strange assortment of fellow stranded passengers. I was just about tired enough to have lost any semblance of good judgment, and I was considering interviewing a few folks about their tattoos and their strange choice of anatomical body piercings. But Kristi convinced me I would regret that choice later. So I did not.
On the way to our long awaited departure to Charlotte, we got a great tour of every terminal in the Atlanta airport since Delta chose to change our departure gate AND terminal about six times between 5 a.m. and 7:20 a.m.
My enormous purse that was also holding my laptop had gained about ten pounds since the day before and my cute shoes that should be against the law to wear anyway were hurting my feet so much that I had developed half-dollar sized blisters on the balls of both my feet. I asked Kristi if she would mind pushing me if I could just locate a wheel chair, but we never did.
I think I am done with travel for a while. Wonder what lesson I was supposed to learn in this adventure besides always take a tube of toothpaste in your purse and avoid the Atlanta airport at all costs.
I know well the scriptures on being thankful in all circumstances. Even though I failed miserably Thursday night, I know one more thing about myself.
I handle the significant crises of life a lot better than the minor inconveniences. I think most of us do.
God is still working on me. Maybe one day, I will get the heart, the brain, and the mouth to work in sync. They just can’t get their act together.
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