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I tried a new travel strategy this week.

Normally I optimize for time at home with family. I’ll wake up at the crack of dawn and work late into the night if I can get home a day early. But the last few weeks have been grueling on my body. On Friday nights, I drag my weary body through the door, dump my bag on the floor, and flop uselessly on the couch. I take 2 and sometimes 3 naps on Saturday and Sunday. You can imagine how psyched Greta is with this arrangement.

So this week, I changed it up.

In order to maximize sleep and avoid the 4:30 am alarm clock, I decided to fly tonight. An early evening flight would put me in my Heavenly bed at 10pm. I’d wake up at 7, work out, and eat a large breakfast of fruit, toast, juice & coffee. I dreamed of quality sleep, morning exercise, enhanced concentration, and a massively productive day at work.

But here I am, at gate C81 of Newark airport, listening to the steady blare of delay announcements. My teeth are clenched and grinding and my lap is overheating from my cursed laptop. A baby is wailing somewhere.

I walked about a mile to find an open power outlet. It was conveniently located 30 feet from all airport furniture. I sat on the floor and wrestled with my Verizon air card, which decided to revert to 1998 Internet speeds.  It might as well play that old AOL dial-up noise.

Another baby is crying. If I close my eyes, it almost seems as if they’re participating in some sort of pre-mating ritual, except instead of birds chirping to each other to establish compatability, these beasts are competing for dominance by seeing who can sustain the highest-pitch screech for the longest period of time.

When I returned to my gate, I discovered that an extra hour of delay was added….bringing the total to 3 hours. Perfect. So I’ll settle into my Heavenly Bed at 1:05 am.

Maybe I should just bag the healthy thing and order a beer and some onion rings.

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Socialized through Gregarious 42