Expose’| It’s a hard-knocks life

Cartoon by Hugh MacLeod

From the time I was in my mid-twenties to my early thirties I had a pretty fantabulous (yes I just made that word up and I love it so SHUT UP) job doing – essentially – corporate recruiting – for a major U.S. life insurance company.

I say essentially because in six years I was promoted six or seven times – and always in to a newly created role – which meant that I was more of  a corporate entrepreneur than recruiter, IMO.

Anyway.

During that time with each promotion my grew geographically from local to state-wide to regional (southeast) to national, and, therefore, so did my travel.

Before I knew it I was flying – and I researched this so I know – more than a full-time flight attendant flies for Delta – ON TOP OF my actual job.

I mean, that was just the transportation part.

That didn’t “count” – as far as my actual work was concerned.

You know.

Ahhhh…the joys of being salaried.

Anyway.

During that time I commuted to work by plane like most people commute to work by car.

A typical day?

I’d start my day with a 6:00 a.m. four-hour flight to Phoenix from Atlanta for breakfast, get back to the airport for a flight to D.C. for lunch, and then get myself on yet another  plane to NYC for dinner.

Wake up in the morning in a panic — wondering “what city am I am in and what city am I supposed to be in??”

Rinse, spin, hallucinate, vomit, repeat.

I remember specifically thinking one December that I wanted to make Platinum on Delta the following year; and, the next December, that my goal was to NOT make Platinum on Delta.

I will never forget the moment I truly thought I was destined to be institutionalized. And believe it or not, it wasn’t the morning I woke up having a full-blown panic attack because I didn’t know where I was. In my own bedroom.

I arrived at the airport and walked up to the check-in counter.

Me: Hi.

Her: Hi, where are you going today?

Me: Um.

Me:

Her:

Her:

Me: Let me check.

Me, fumbling through a stack of airline tickets, itineraries, travel documents…

Her, sympathetically with a raised eyebrow:

Me:

Me:

Me: Newark!

Her, ever so gently and compassionately, placing her hand on mine…

Her: Honey.

Her:

Her: You’re IN Newark.

Me, despondent:

Me:

Me: OH!

Me, beaming: Well then I’m going to Dallas.

What struck me tonight – thanks to #insomnia – is that during that time in my life I recall so many of my friends constantly commenting on my “exciting” and “jet-setting” lifestyle in such a wistful way.

And I remember how hard it was to explain to them that it’s not so glamorous or all that fun to spend your life in airports, on crowded airplanes, in speeding taxis, conference rooms, and hotel rooms.

In fact, it’s mostly irritating, gross, and exhausting.

If you’ve traveled at all for business you know what I’m talking about.

I’m not saying that I never had any fun or that I wouldn’t do it over again. I had some amazing experiences that I never would have had if it weren’t for that job/company.

And, what is most interesting to me is that, were I living that life today, I would be actively documenting it, moment-to-moment, on Cliqset, Twitter, Facebook , etc., via photos and video on my iPhone — including the long lines, lost luggage, hotel room mix-ups, crazy early mornings, crazy late nights, delayed and canceled flights, over-extended meetings, Google Maps meeting location mix-ups…you get the picture.

Were I living that life today my friends and family would have a much more true-to-life picture of my not-so-glamourous-life.

They might see things differently about my day to day life. And they would most likely react to me and my career differently.

If you were living the life you had 10 years ago now and in real-time for the world to see, how would that change the perception of your friends and family?

Would the truth set you free?