As it happens, I am procrastinating. Amtrak customer service is already dialed on my phone, and I should be in the office calling them right now, but instead I am dibbling into blog material, excusing travel responsibility for the sake of rattling away at several people who are fishing for updates. Ahem.
(Note to readers: My procrastination was derailed after this paragraph, and I have resumed this at about the time I should be embracing my feather pillow and slipping into heavy sleep. Therefore, I must insert a disclaimer regarding the content of the post included herein, informing you all that I am not responsible for what I say at this hour. Basically I'm putting my hands on the keyboard, closing my eyes, and pattering out anything - anything at all. Koala, this is your fault.)
The difficulties with Amtrak were quickly resolved, thanks to some exceedingly patient and polite customer service representatives (humans, by the way, which proved a nice vacation from Greyhound's incessant robotic assistance. Amtrak has robotic CS agents as well, but there is a way to circumvent them without repeating the same menu multiple times.). Imagine my surprised delight to discover tonight that I could obtain the tickets without tapping a fair stranger's wallet; those tickets are now in my possession and all portions of the planned journey adequately financed.
Later today, after I flomp for some decent rest, I must collect all my possessions, minimize them if at all possible, and pack them away in two compact bags. Laundry must be done, a phone call made (because I /could/ walk four hours to the airport, but do I really want to do that? In a city I don't know, without a reliable map? ... No. Just in case you were wondering.), the house vacuumed one last time, all the weeds in the orchard pulled, and notes written to my fellow housemates. I also need to draw maps for all the stations I will be getting to by sidewalk, using Mapquest and Google Maps as references, and develop emergency back-up plans for the (scarily likely) scenarios that I a) get lost, b) am approached by disturbingly creepy strangers with less than appropriate designs (this strategy involving knee to the groin, elbow to the face, and a dictionary over the head for good measure; what a pity I neglected to bring Webster's. ._.), or c) am accosted by a large and suspiciously hungry-looking dog who refuses to make friends when I speak to him.
The maps stress me the most, actually, because, while I can pull off the orchard and the ride to the airport and the vacuuming quite well, along with the printing of tickets and such, I fear getting lost in a maze of streets so much that the mere thought of it puts queasies in my stomach. There are so many alleys and byways, and not all the roads are marked with perfect accuracy, and... and and and and and - ! But once I'm actually marching along on my own two feet, I'm certain it will fall into place without much trouble. After all, I do have relatively sturdy legs, and a decent head on my shoulders, not to mention two eyes (pay ATTENTION, January) and two arms for getting me through sticky places.
Signing off rather abruptly, because these eyes must close if they are to be expected to do anything other than blur over come dawn...
~ Donny Yodel
No comments:
Post a Comment