Modern Nomad - Reclaiming My Zone

Virtual guest, I'm sharing a look into my hotel room: specifically the bathroom counter and my corresponding posse of toiletry supplies, which take up a fifth of my suitcase and are typically the first things I care to unpack.

Here on the right, you can see a life-sized replica of my setup at home, engineered for optimal hotel-living convenience. You may not think of it, but a primary concern with hotel rooms is finding a mirror with good lighting. That's why, once I've figured out my mirror arrangement, I tend to stay at the same hotel week to week. Of course, I also like to do this because the hotel staff start to recognize me, but even more than that, I start to recognize them.

I'm pondering whether it's more objectionable or less that I use almost every one of these items in the picture on the daily, albeit in quick succession in the mornings. Things aren't always laid out this way (remotely neatly), especially since I'm rarely blessed with this many drinking glasses to be repurposed as containers. However, I do consistently pack everything that I use when I’m at home, so there’s no living simple on the road for me.

This is all too true when I start to bring duplicate items like face wash – one for the main trip and another for trips within trips. Would these then be called travel-travel products? Products for travel when you're already on travel? I am aware that all of this is considerably high maintenance. In my very feeble defense, maintaining my ideal personal care process helps me feel normal and well-functioning wherever I go.

Speaking of heavy packing, there was a period of time recently when I was travelling so much that it became necessary to bring an extra suitcase of clothing to keep at the hotel. The two suitcases together essentially became my rolling closet. Given that 70% of my usual wardrobe was with me in those suitcases, I was functionally dumping out my entire closet every single week when I unpacked at the hotel and three days later, reorganized and placed everything back in. The interesting thing was that I needed clothing for very different climates, so I simultaneously had heavy gloves and spring dresses in my suitcases. Anyone looking inside them may be led to believe that I was running away from home and that I grabbed everything I could in a mad dash, including an electric blanket. I’m surprised it all fit, to be honest.

Even without varying climate considerations, my packing mentality should explain why I always have a full carry-on regardless of whether it’s for one night or four – and goodness knows that we're checking a bag if it's longer.

Small Quirks About Traveling and Birthdays - Salt Lake City, UT

Spending these past few weeks in the western states, there are several things I have learned that I have never thought to consider:

Firstly, my current location is at a high altitude and quite dry. I'm sure mountain climbers are well familiar with these challenges, but as a green traveler, by the end of the first day here, I was completely worn just from regular breathing and remaining upright. By the time I was in bed, I thought I was miserable, trying to intake oxygen but unable to escape the parched and enveloping air. As it turns out, this was dramatic as I became accustomed to the climate and resumed normal breathing by week two. (And now, why is home so humid?) I've never contemplated that locations could differ not only visually and spatially but also in the way that it physically affects you, even while indoors.

Secondly, time change. I understand the concept of time change, so the issue is getting the direction of change correct. Especially since I'm not on vacation and the time of day actually matters, it is deceptively unintuitive to keep track of whether to add two hours, subtract two hours, or do nothing because the clock is correct. More important yet, should I eat lunch during the lunchtime of the current or former timezone?

Lastly, I realized this week that this is the first year I will be away for work on my birthday. I was reminded of this by the lovely cake pops that were placed on my hotel bed at check-in.

In a way, it feels like a rite of passage as I join the ranks of business travelers who either impressively or unfortunately spend more nights in a hotel than at home each year. That's a subject for another day.

The thing is, I like to perceive myself as a highly practical person. In that sense, a day is a day is a day. For example, I don’t care whether I have celebratory dinner with my family on my actual birthday or if it's two weeks past.

I remember once in an Econ class in college. I’m sure I should have been paying attention, but was momentarily distracted by my inability to recall my own age. I think this occurred in March, or some month that was significantly past my birthday, and I spent a good several minutes trying to calculate from my birth year whether I was 19 or 20. I definitely settled on 19, which was totally incorrect, and I attribute at least part of this forgetfulness to the failure to celebrate age changes properly. The years all start to blend together.

I say all of this half offhandedly, but of course, thanks in large part to the wonderful people around me, I’ve always managed to feel very loved year upon year. I don’t overhype the date of my birth, but I feel very fortunate when people celebrate a day that’s special specifically to me (and my same-birthday cohorts). 

People have been known to ask me cryptically but insistently what kind of cake I like, and I just assume that they’re interested in learning about my preferences. A week later, the exact type of cake shows up, and surprise – my housemates are celebrating my birthday. (2015)

A good friend comes to my house after I’ve had a day full of in-person birthday wishes from all my favorite people - it's the first time that college is in session on my birthday. My friend brings me a tall bottle of chai latte, because she’s younger than me and couldn’t buy alcohol yet as I was turning 21. I obviously love chai lattes. A long letter is attached, which I read and kept on the mantel above my bed until I moved from that apartment a year and a half later. (2014)

I’m not sure what will happen this year, but you know, it’s a long weekend, I’ve accumulated another year of life experiences, and in a way, I'm easily pleased: I need to celebrate only a small amount to be richly reminded that I'm thankful for the people who care about me and also to remember that I have to up my age counter by one once again.

“There is No Typical Week In My Life”

I have a proposition for myself, and it is that I will buy and enjoy one fruit tart pastry each and every week that I am on a travel project. There are no conditions and no quid pro quo. I'm not even obligated to have a fruit tart if I didn’t want one that week, although I’m not sure what unusual event would cause that circumstance to arise.

Side note, speaking of quid pro quo and other words or phrases that one might look up, I recently watched an episode of the Good Wife and had to pause it twice to look up new words until I gave up and went on inferring definitions. Side-side note: I am so delighted by the commencement of TV season again.

As I was saying, this is paradigmatic of a personal tradition, a bakery-sourced tartlet on a weekly consumption cycle. Quite frankly forming such a habit is otherwise meaningless but for the theoretical relief that there’s one less decision you have to consciously make during the week (and one more certainty you can bank on).

To give you a snapshot of my current weekly traditions and activities, here’s the set-up. Mindy Kaling’s most recent book has a chapter one chapter outlining her day-to-day activities by the hour. A highly engaging, fly-on-the-wall read. This series illustrates what a recent week looked like for me, as I break into my new rhythm.

Main Post | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

"There is No Typical Week In My Life" - Monday

Monday

Morning 4:15am: I wake up way before sunrise to fly out to work. Sometimes, my mom has prepared something for me like a fruit salad. It’s very cozy when I get to carry away something homemade - the very real perks of living with my family. By the way, ‘living with family’ seems to sound better than ‘living with parents’.

5:30am: The Uber that takes me to the airport has a leather dashboard that gently gleams against the still-black morning. I'm not quite ready to wind up for the day, so I take it easy and interchangeably think quietly or read the New York Times daily briefing on my phone. (Interesting fact: the New York Times features most consistently among the papers that the "most successful" people read regularly. I did a background check on the NYT before subscribing.)

6:20am: I’m in the back of a long line through TSA, trying to deep-breathe away the bubbling freak-out over being late for my flight. I get through with time to spare as always, because the line moves faster than what I fear. Sometimes however, my belated boarding sticks me with subprime real estate in the overhead bins for my luggage.

9:30am: I get breakfast in the office this morning and also every other morning, which is a healthy habit I'm happy about. Fruit, greek yogurt with granola, oatmeal, Naked juice, or potentially a granola bar - something from that list. I’ve been known to grab a cheeky fruit tart while I’m at the bakery to save for later and there was that one time I bought kombucha tea, only to take a sip and put it away because it tastes like alcohol (it’s non-alcoholic, but fermented, and the classification may or may not be a fuzzy subject).

Evening circa 7:30pm: At some point in the evening, I leave the office and go back to my hotel room. I’m usually hungry, but it’s Monday so it’s also a relief/chore mixture to have to unpack. I also want to respond to any personal texts or emails I hadn’t seen from the day. There’s a bit of triage going on here where I have to order Postmate or Seamless food first because it takes time to arrive. But I had texted a couple people on my ride to the hotel, so I’m in conversation with one of them now. And this reminds me that I should message someone to move a hangout from tomorrow to Wednesday, so I better text them before I forget.

8:30pm: I stalk my Postmate via his moving icon on the map until my food finally comes. The food is never what I expect but I’m hungry so it’s fine. It’s always my own fault to order from an app where I can’t see any pictures and furthermore to order from a different restaurant each time because I like to try new things. The food is still fairly good and I can't complain.

Main Post | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

"There is No Typical Week In My Life" - Tuesday

Tuesday

Evening circa 8:30pm: When I’m back in the hotel after work, I pick a hobby and loosely commit myself to work on it at least one night during the week, which will be tonight. This particular week, I work on my expenses which is slightly more complicated as of late, so I have a good time constructing an airtight process for keeping track of different credit cards, bank accounts, and expense sheets. I’m not being sarcastic right now - I legitimately enjoy doing my finances, even more so when it requires some creativity to design a streamlined process. Other hobby options include writing blogposts (good luck going to bed on time those weeks), reading books, and reading product reviews on something or other. I also film video diaries occasionally, and I may eventually add a learning-oriented activity, like reading economics papers or crash course guides on topics like European imperialism (aspirations). All these hobbies get cycled through, one hobby per week, unless of course I have no free time after work.

10pm: I wind down for sleep by watching a few newly posted videos from among my Youtube subscriptions, perhaps a selection from my Watch Later list. Maybe it’s a vlog, a comedy sketch, or a video on pancake art. It’s best to start off with something I want to devote more attention to and transition to background chatter. If I flip-flop the order, I would end up becoming more awake from a highly entertaining video, and may keep watching until an unacceptable hour.

Main Post | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

"There is No Typical Week In My Life" - Wednesday

Wednesday

Morning 6:15am: My first alarm goes off. I set it early so I have plenty of time to exercise and get ready for work. However, as is typical, I roll out of bed at 6:45 or even 7 after a long chain of 5-minute-interval alarms. I gear up, brush my teeth, and go downstairs to work out. When I’m on the treadmill, I feel like I’m suffering, but I know I’ll feel better during the day if I reach my bare minimum goal. Then I do some non-treadmill stuff which I enjoy much more and I am back upstairs and showering within 40 minutes. I play a handful of Youtube videos as I get ready, much like morning radio, often including a daily episode of Good Mythical Morning which I find clever-funny.

Evening circa 7:30pm: I’m meeting friends who now live in the area, so I drop my laptop at the hotel and coordinate where to meet. We have dinner, where I consider ordering salad and decide that for whatever reason, the fact that it’s later in the week means I don’t have to eat as healthy. We hang out and it’s a fun way to spend the evening, getting the vibe of the city. Then I return to the hotel, which fun fact, I sometimes refer to as “home” for short.

Main Post | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

"There is No Typical Week In My Life" - Thursday

Thursday

Morning 8:15am: I’ve finished getting ready this morning and need to pack to check out. I always leave myself less time than I need, but it’s really very efficient how quickly I can stuff everything into various bags and corners of my suitcase. My shampoo bar goes back into its case – it’s the Rose Jam bar from Lush, whose nice smell pervasively fills all my hotel bathrooms and which I now positively associate with traveling for work. My adorably small travel razor also goes in my bag and I wonder if there’s anything I can do to prevent it from rusting so much quicker than my normal razor at home. My liquids go in a bag and I make a mental note to refill certain things, hoping that I won’t leave myself high and literally dry next week by forgetting. This week, I also learn that hotels will store bags for returning customers, so instead of double-overstuffing my bag, I separate out a few things to leave with front desk such as running shoes. Then I rush to work like a composed but crazy person.

Afternoon 5:30pm: I’m on the plane headed for my real home and I send a quick email before lift-off which makes me feel slightly like I’m in a movie about a businesswoman. Then I’m almost instantly knocked-out, because though my neck gets uncomfortable, I find it very easy to sleep on planes fortunately.

Evening 8pm: I’m back home in my comfy room with a bunch of boxes containing various online shopping orders that came in during the week. It doesn't make sense to pick things up at CVS if I can get it cheaper and easier on Amazon. Due to the fact that I'm away during the week anyway, I can simply forget about the order until return to I find it waiting for me, and thus the delayed gratification from shipping transit bothers me not at all. In the weekend ahead, I know it helps me feel good and get errands done if I take a gym class Saturday morning and play rule-free racquetball Sunday morning. Otherwise, weekends follow no pattern as long as I’m locked and loaded by Monday morning to start another week all over again, fruit tart and all. That's full circle, check.

Main Post | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

Mostly Beloved Uber

Did you know that Uber records passenger ratings? 45% of my Uber life has been spent oblivious to this fact. I just feel that every Did You Know should be followed by a statistic, and now you’re a little more conditioned to expect it too.

I think I learned about this Uber feature from a coworker. On a side note, we’re all Uber fanatics here (and there’s nothing not to love about low rates, automatic payments, no tipping dilemmas, automatic payments again, and credit card points). Apparently it’s very easy to find out your passenger score; I know from personal experience! You send a quick email, and voila, 4.6 stars. Is that a good score? Is it bad? It’s very enigmatic, because you don’t know which rides dinged you and which dimension of being a passenger you’re naturally good at.

I’m serious; so the score factors whether you keep your driver waiting on the curb, whether or not you’re overly unpleasant, and several other things. You get matched with drivers who have similar ratings to your own – at least that’s the rumor. So with the power of this knowledge, you may begin to develop a fear that if you’re not chatty enough with your driver, you’ll end up in a swervy, lost, and God-forbid non-black car in the future as a consequence.

The added pressure notwithstanding, I have genuinely loved chatting with Uber drivers, a great proportion of which have been friendly, phenomenally lighthearted, and well-paced conversationalists. I have sneakily gotten their insight into the Uber system more than once and their stances run the gamut from happily and altruistically wanting to take new friends to their destinations, to suppressed anger regarding the low compensation and the overhaul effects on the taxi industry. I’m now a bit wiser to avoid engaging taxi-by-day Uber-by-night drivers on the concepts of marketplace and regulation.

One personally resounding addendum to driver-passenger chats is that car rides have positive effects on conversation-making in general. I'm inclined to surmise that superb quality occurs more often than in other environments, be the reason reduced expectations or lack of alternatives. Try this on/with your acquaintances!

Given the unique service that this app has provided, what a surprise to remember that Uber is not ubiquitous, as we stood next to our broken down car in the middle of Pennsylvania.

This, my friends, was a comprehensive overview of my Uber experience to date.

Zen Mode

There’s a state of mind that I call Zen Mode. It’s a switch you turn on in your brain. It’s helpful to visualize intentionality when you want to deliberately change the way you think, so that you can do things like switch into honesty mode and effortlessly become the honest person you wish to see (in yourself). So Zen Mode turns on when I’m traveling and it means that long waits, changes in plans, cutting it close, and ignorantly missed shortcuts roll off like it doesn’t bother me.

No really, I can turn Zen Mode on. No, you have to believe me.

Friday Evening Me Time

Travel is entertaining but raises awareness to the plight that Friday evenings are a prime time to feel an affinity for something to do and people to be around, occurring most reliably when you momentarily have neither. This phenomenon occurred in college as well and after some deliberation, I partially attribute this to the adrenaline drop after a long week. It's limbo, the lag of expectations catching up to reality... not denying there’s also something there about knowing other people are out who will always stay out later than you.

I do love unwinding when I settle in, so there is only a key period to overcome while making the transition from people mode to me-time. Staying entertained helps. Of course, there's also this secondary issue of whether I ever want to leave chill-out-mode once I'm there, even to sleep or to rejoin productive society when it calls. I say this facetiously because the long-run optimization is yes I should, but sometimes, you have moments where you wonder, isn’t it rational to think on the margin?

Alas, that's all a bit of sophistry, so back to work it is.

A Very Empty Plane

This is not a drill, a recent flight from DC to New York looked like this for the duration of the flight - the back of the plane was empty. I haven't seen this often, having a flight with only about 15 people on board. A major upside was that most people got their own row, almost as if we were on a private jet - so this is me not complaining.