H is for Home

I am in my late twenties but still live with my parents. Home is where the heart is as they say. I don’t travel alone very much and when I do I get quite nervous and worried about things which to others would be trivial. Where I work, some people there get sent on trips to the other end of the world to do work. I do not want to do these trips. Visiting somewhere with family, and going somewhere for work and not seeing any of the sites are very different things and provoke very different feelings.

I ended up this year being booked to go to Cork (Ireland) and somewhere in England. I stayed at work an hour and a half later than normal (I normally leave early) and went to the airport, the flight was not for another 3 hours at this point. Got dinner. Got on the plane, everything was going fine. Due to turbulence they couldn’t land at Cork. They tried again but again were unable to land. So we were diverted to Shannon, and put on a bus which took us to Cork. This bus took 2 hours. We then had to get a taxi to the hotel. When we got there it was 2:30am. I had not had anything to drink for hours, so I thought I would make a tea. My room key didn’t work, so I had to go to reception and wait for the man to show up (he had disappeared) and then I got into my room, filled the kettle, flicked the switch… nothing. I thought perhaps it was the wrong way, and I had switched it off instead of on. Tried the other way, nothing. So eventually I felt the kettle and realised somewhere in my switch changing session it had heated to a luke warm temperature. So I ended up with a barely above cold cup of tea then went to bed. That morning I had got up at 5:35am, and there I was 2:30am the next day just getting to sleep. And I barely slept. Was up at 6:30am to go to the office we were working in. Left there 12 (lunchtime) to go to the airport, went through security, got lunch then sat waiting on the gate to open. Luckily they were able to land the plane this time and I arrived a bit earlier at the drop off point, but had to wait on my dad to pick me up and it was freezing. So now I am home wondering how long it will take before I fall asleep from exhaustion.

And in a weeks time I have the England trip. Should be relatively okay travel wise except on the way home, where the trains are every 2 hours and if I miss one, I will have a long wait. So H is for Home. I like to stay there, and I like to come home. I like routine. Not change.


4 thoughts on “H is for Home

  1. Travelling can be fun (and educational) – but home comforts are good too. 🙂

  2. You’re so lucky that you get to travel for work. I realize it might not be as fun when you don’t actually get to enjoy the sites, but I’d be happy just to have a few more stamps in my passport. Hope your trip to England bodes well.

    Have fun with a-z.

  3. MM Pollard says:

    My first trip alone ever was to England. I had planned to spend a month with a friend. She had an old car that I could use to visit the sites. My first week there, I have a wreck and total her car. That trip had lots of firsts: my first trip alone, my first flight, my first international car wreck, my first awareness that English in England is different from English in Louisiana, U.S.
    I survived and have a great story to tell now. MM

  4. Pete Denton says:

    Home comforts are the best 🙂

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