Ever since I was a wee lass I have thought that having a job requiring travel sounded spectacular. I love flying, love airports (believe it or not, I do), love the feeling of satisfaction I get when I navigate my way through terminals and checkpoints and gates more efficiently than the person who was ahead of me in line at the check-in kiosk. I am a very good traveler. I like adventures and I like the way I never really know how a trip is going to go. Some people melt into nervous puddles of anxious goo when their travel plans are unexpectedly modified in even a tiny way, but me, I take it in stride.
This month I will be achieving one of my lifelong goals: getting paid to travel.
Not long-term—that is, my position hasn’t suddenly changed to one that requires weekly travel (that would be sweet though). Instead, it’s a four-day trip to Vegas for a social media conference, and it’s going to rock.
I’m looking forward to this trip for three reasons: 1) Because it’s accomplishing a lifelong goal to get paid to travel; 2) Because it will be a welcome break from my regular routine; and 3) Because it’s Vegas, which is only 6 hours away from my hometown, and where I spent many a fun-filled summer vacation growing up so I’m practically going home.
Isn’t it interesting how Home can manifest itself in so many things? In a summer destination, in a certain shade of green, in the smell of rained-on baseball fields.
Home can even be in a carne asada burrito if you try hard enough.
So now in a convoluted way I have geared myself up for Vegas both because it’s a change from my routine and because it’s a return to same.
It’s no wonder I don’t know what I want in life.