published: Sunday, June 30, 2013
Post Workshop Syndrome
I need to make a little correction in regards to last week's column. I mentioned that I was changing planes in O'Hare airport. This turned out not to be the case - while I did go to Chicago, I wound up at its Midway airport, which in my humble opinion is much easier to get around than O'Hare.
To explain the title of this column you have to understand the state of my brain by the time I was flying back home from Oregon. I had just spent an intense week in a completely different time zone attending lectures and writing under the shadow of a deadline. In the space of a week I wrote more than 9,000 new words of fiction, which doesn't count other assignments I also had to complete and turn in on time.
Now add the fact that I had to get up at the insane hour of 3 a.m. Monday in order to make my early flight out of Portland. This is after a week when sleep is often seen as a luxury. Tired doesn't begin to cover it.
So it will probably come as no surprise that one of the things that happened in Chicago while I was waiting for my connecting flight was that I managed to misplace my boarding pass.
I had folded the pass (which I'd printed out the morning before) and shoved it into a pocket, where it somehow worked itself out somewhere in the airport. Fortunately, when I dutifully went to the gate to report my situation someone had found it and turned it in. One crisis averted.
Then I sat down with a bottle of soda, which I managed to knock over just after someone sat down next to me. No, I didn't splash him. I had no paper towels or napkins so I could only watch Diet Coke soak into the dirty carpet. The man sitting next to me decided to find another seat. I wonder why?
The flight to Tampa was uneventful until we got on the ground. I proceeded to turn on my cell phone, and then managed to drop it. It fell under my seat. Do you know how little space there is between your seat and the one in front of you? Not enough to get on your knees and search under your seat for your phone. I know. I tried.
Lucky for me the person sitting behind me managed to see and snag my phone for me so I didn't have to figure out how to get it back. So it was with a sense of relief I got off the plane and headed towards the airport terminal.
Only to realize just before I exited the jetway that I'd left my denim jacket in my seat. Can you say, "fried brain?"
So I headed back down the jetway, feeling like a salmon swimming upstream, until I got near the door of the plane. One of the flight attendants had found my jacket and happily restored it to me.
Somehow I managed to drive myself back home from Tampa with no further incidents, where I said hi to people and collapsed into bed, where I spent a good part of Tuesday.
Even as I type this on Wednesday I still feel some tell-tale effects of Post Workshop Syndrome, which include fatigue, forgetting what day or time it is, and a feeling of being overwhelmed by all the stuff I have to do.
It is normal and by the time you read this column on Sunday I should be over most of it. If not, just pat me on the arm and remind me this too shall pass. And don't forget to give me some coffee.
Laura Ware is a Sebring resident. She can be contacted by e-mail at bookwormlady@
Small Banner Ads