Dread

That's the feeling that instantly grips me when I contemplate returning to the road full time at the end of this month, as it seems likely that I will do.

We all know why, because we all suffer the same experiences. Sometimes it's like being nibbled to death by ducks. Consider these examples of nibbling:

• The incessant security hassles
• Surly and just plain ignorant gate agents
• Last minute gate changes at ATL from the "T" concourse to the "E" concourse
• No place to sit or plug in your laptop in the airline club
• Late arrivals
• Late departures
• Center seats
• RJs
• "Sorry, sir, no upgrades available"
• Waiting 45 minutes for your checked bag to arrive at the carousel
• No pillows or blankets on long flights
• Broken seats and inoperative video systems on overseas flights
• Long takeoff runway waits
• The tyranny of on-board announcements you've heard for 40 years, and broadcast way too loud by a baritone FA or pilot who wants you to know every last detail of the flight
• Last minute aircraft changes which cause you to lose your precious aisle seat or upgrade
• The tyranny of TV monitors in gate areas turned up to maximum volume and cawing ceaslessly about the latest celebrity hangnail or sex-change operation in the brief moments between commercials, which are even louder than the programming
• "Sorry, sir, but the only car we have left is a Yugo"
• Waiting 30 minutes for the car rental shuttle and then it's SRO (at ORD Hertz and Avis busses have many times actually passed by the American pick-up too full to stop, with the driver shrugging at the hapless souls, me among them, shivering in the frigid air)
• "Sorry, sir, but we have only smoking rooms left, and nothing's available on the concierge floor."

I could go on, but you get the point. In fact, I would appreciate comments adding to the list above. It might be fun to develop a definitive list.

And that's just the LITTLE things. How about these somewhat bigger problems:

• "Your flight has been cancelled. Please join the conga line snaking around the corner way down there with one agent working to see about rebooking. This gate area is now closed. Goodbye."
• "Sorry, sir, but the hotel is full due to the snow closure of O'Hare, but we found a room for you at a Hilton in Evansville, Indiana."
• [When calling the airline Elite line]: "Due to weather-related cancellations throughout the country, no agents are available. Please call back a week from Tuesday, and thank you for your loyalty to XYZ Airlines. We appreciate your business sooooooooo much!" [Click]
• Missed connection after the last onward flight has departed for the day due to late inbound flight

And those, of course, are but a small handful of the rotten tomatoes hurled from unseen hands on routine trips to the airport. Again, it might be fun, in a warped sort of way, to compile a complete list of such unfortunate events, and I invite comments with additions.

I remember the transition back to the road. Pretty soon dread turns to resignation, like the reluctant acceptance one feels when suffering through a daylong sinus headache.

In addition to the sadness I feel at being away from family 71.43% of every week, I get to run the taxi-airport-airline-airport-rental car-hotel-rental car-airport-airline-airport-taxi gauntlet as well, every week, week in and week out.

On the slightly brighter side, Joe Brancatelli (rightly) reminds us from time to time that we who must travel all the time are the lucky ones. There are remarkable experiences that come our way with in-person exposure to all corners of the real world, opportunities which the vast majority of people never have.

I strive to be optimistic, and I do love my work. It's challenging and fun, and involves constant imagination and creativity to find solutions to knotty problems. Best of all, constant interaction with interesting people ensures that consulting is never dull. Those job characteristics hook a lot of people into consulting (surprisingly, it's rarely the money that keeps us in the game).

Those positive considerations round off the sharpest edges of the awful dread I feel in pondering my return to the grind. But it would be wrong to say that I am looking forward to telling the taxi driver, when he asks where I'm going, "RDU Airport, please."