Nothing to See Here…

…. and perhaps even a little embarrassed over my recent behavior.

Those of you vigorously shaking your heads YES, well, shut-up.  You already have long lists about why you’d be appalled and embarrassed by me but I haven’t even ‘fessed up this one yet.  The rest of you, read on.  I’m sure you’ll be appalled and embarrassed when it’s all done.

My brain is scattered for lack of sleep, so I’ll be all over the board here today.  When blog-goddess Amalah does it, it’s damn cute but I think once you’re over 40 people just assume you’re losing your friggin’ mind.  The last time I was cute is when I tap-danced for all the old ladies when I was 5.  All those sequins….

So I’m in London this week.  Loooong week.  Got in on Sunday, been working like a dog ever since.  By ‘me’ I mean Corporate Linda who only slightly resembles the real me in looks, although she perhaps has better hygiene, but she doesn’t act anything like me.  I’m tired of Corporate Linda.  I want to check her in an airport locker and leave her behind as I board the plane.  But not yet… one more morning of Corporate Linda and then I can ditch her for a bit.

Anyway, my big workshop was yesterday.  It was good and bad.  The consultants we hired committed a heinous sin in the form of Death by PowerPoint in the morning but we recovered in the afternoon.  After the day was over, I came to my hotel room and CRASHED.  A good, long nap.

And then I was up the rest of the night.  THE REST OF THE NIGHT!

And the minibar was empty.  I think that nice French lady at the front desk was saying “Give the fat American the room with the empty minibar.  She’s a danger to our Snickers supply.  It’s for her own good.”  Of course, it sounded beautiful and melodious and I smiled at her warmly. 

And I wanted to smoke really bad, but I didn’t (even though there is a machine in the lobby and the cancer sticks were ONLY about $9.00 US a pack - ACK!!)

And I promise I WILL NOT START ANOTHER SENTENCE WITH AND.

So I had lots of coffee this morning.  Total caffeine buzz going here.  I’m exhausted. (See?  I didn’t start that one with AND.  So is very different from AND.)

Yes, I’m getting to the appalled and embarrassed point… I knew you wouldn’t find my meandering ADHD as cute as when Amalah does it.

I’m TIRED of UK food.  Someday I’ll write a post about everything I love about London ’cause there is lots and lots.  Today, it’s all about the hate.  I hate their toilets, I had their sandwiches, I hate that there are no wash cloths nor any hair conditioner in my hotels.  Why is it I love British TV at home but I only find CRAP on the 4 channels I get when I’m here?

This is about the food, though.  I’m T.I.R.E.D. of the food.  I just want regular food.  The eggs are wrong, the sandwiches have hidden secret ingredients and the bread is always a wee bit stale.  I just wanted something I LIKED that was quick and easy.

As I was leaving our office building, I spied a Burger King.

Yes.  I did.

I ordered it and sat in the corner hunkered down skeered anyone from my company would come in and see me.  “Damn Americans - come over here and eat a CHEESEBURGER from BURGER KING.” 

And I almost got away with it too, if not for those meddling teenagers.  Well, it’s more the fact that I’ve just confessed to the whole internet and really nothing to do at all with any meddling teenagers.

So there.  No, go ahead — commence being appalled and embarrassed.  I’m a horrible awful no-good ambassador of my country.  SEND ME HOME IMMEDIATELY!  (But?  Corporate Linda can stay.)

Do you see what happens when I get no sleep and lots of caffeine?

Shall I continue on my bitch fest?  Since I already lost you all many paragraphs ago (”Did you hear?  Just Linda went MAD and is now beginning EVERY sentence with the word AND!  No, it’s TRUE!”) 

WHY DON’T WOMEN’S RESTROOMS AROUND HERE HAVE FEMININE PROTECTION????  More importantly (Russ, cover your ears… I don’t want to embarrass you, but MetroDad you can listen ’cause after all, you’re just another Mommy Blogger) WHY THE FUCK DO I SEEM TO BE ON THE RAG EVERY TIME I COME OVER HERE?????

The bathrooms have no feminine protection.  Do you know what that means, people?  Do you know what the Plan B is in a bathroom with no feminine protection and a need for it?  THAT’S RIGHT - it means you make due.  Yes, I’m talking about handfuls of toilet paper.  Oh. My. God.  I just want to go home.

There is more to this story, about the restaurant and the toilet paper plan B, but I’ll spare you.  Let’s just say I left my mark on a very posh damask-covered restaurant chair and leave it at that.

I WANT TO GO HOME!!

But?  This afternoon?  I got a big audience with a lot of people and I got to present and talk and talk and talk (on no sleep and a lot of caffeine) and GOD that gets my blood pumping.  Won’t SOMEBODY hire me just to talk?  Can’t I please make 6-figures just to TALK?

No?

I bet right about now that someone, somewhere, would pay that much to get me to shut up, though, right?  Ha!

(ok, admit it — now you’re appalled and embarrassed, right?)