business class.

"So are you going on vacation?"
"No, I'm traveling on business."

"Now, are you flying home tonight, dear?"
"Oh, no. I'm on a business trip."

"Alright, ma'am, your room is located just around the corner there. Are you staying with us for business or pleasure?"
"Uh, business."

I sat in three different airports, two different airplanes, and one hotel yesterday. I was wearing jeans, sandals (which I had to take off in one of those airports), a t-shirt that said "HERE COMES TROUBLE" in big black letters, and pigtails. Yes, I looked like a true business traveler.

You know, I sometimes don't even believe it myself. I feel that I must be entirely too young to be here, or at least entirely too Sandra. But here I am, blogging my disbelief on the company laptop in a Hampton Inn outside Detroit, hoping that the clients I'm here to see aren't having the same doubts.

And now I am not going to take the time to come up with some clever closing to this. I have to get up early and go to work tomorrow.