Sunday, October 27, 2019

Sleeplessness and Size

Last night we set our clocks back by an hour as part of Daylight Saving, known as Sommerzeit in Germany.  The last Sunday in October marks the Ende der Sommerzeit, and obviously the hour is moved back by one hour so that we go back to Normalzeit. 

As a child we learned the little reminder "spring forward, fall back," as a way to make sure we did not adjust the clocks incorrectly.  I like the autumn and winter months very much, and I quite like it when it gets darker earlier, so kind of look forward to this change.  Of course, this is my own preference, as I know that many others much prefer longer days when it stays light longer. 

Despite my fondness for autumn and winter, I have noticed over the past years is that in the weeks leading up to the time change, I don't seem to sleep as well; I experience lots of restlessness and generally do not feel particularly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.    I have always assumed (and still do, to an extent) that this is just a normal part of the body cycle, and that as I got myself physically and mentally adjusted, then things go back to, erm, normal.  I think normal is somewhat relative, here, since what the hell is really normal?  Everyone's definition seems to vary to some degree.

With my work excitement increase in recent weeks, I also have quite a bit on my mind at any given time.  This already has created some restlessness nights, but for the most part, I have done really well at finding ways to calm myself down and allow for my thoughts to slow down enough so that I can sleep.  There have been a couple of exceptions, however.

Just a couple of weeks ago during my trip to Flensburg, I was comfortably (so I thought) drifting off to sleep in the cozy bed when suddenly I was thinking about my next visit stateside, about 2 months away.  The thoughts I was having were positive and happy; I was thinking about Tex-Mex places I wanted to visit, people that I would see, places that I would go.  (sadly, I now have to strike Preston-Royal shopping center off the list, due to the recent tornado activity in Dallas)

I always look forward to such visits, and, not unlike a child looking forward to Christmas Day ("only 2 more sleeps til Christmas Eve!"), I become giddy.  But some 72 days before boarding the plane?
"Only 72 more sleeps til Dallas!" just seems a bit overeager to me, though I am starting to mark the days on the calendar. 

My issue that evening was more like, "Why, tonight, of all nights, am I suddenly lying wide awake in bed thinking about these things?" when I really needed my body and mind to rest so that I could get through the remaining challenging meetings with my customer. 

I am grateful that they were happy thoughts of anticipation instead of  anxious thoughts and questions about work, finances, or other topics that can easily turn dark and scary.  That following morning as I had a quick espresso before heading to the meeting, I kind of laughed as I thought, "Did I really need to think about what I would be wearing on the airplane in two months' time?"

This past week, I had another similar experience where I was unable to fall asleep, and found myself contemplating the elements of size.  Again, I am quite thankful that the thoughts were not so disturbing, but I was a little perplexed as to why, at 2h30 in the morning, was I thinking about this?  I would have much preferred to think about these things outside of my sleep time, despite the interest I was having with the topic.

Let me be clear:  it was not as if I was looking for answers to these questions, but the questions just started popping up.

Packets of cigarettes for example.  I normally buy a pack of 20 from my local kiosk, and when making this request, I specify the price of the packet, in this case, 7 euro.  (nope,  this is NOT the time for non-smokers to start commenting on the price of tobacco products).   Thus, I might say, "Ein Päckchen für 7 Euro, bitte," to the person at the counter.

At the grocery store, they have a little automated machine which shows the brand, but then shows a little size.  Thus, they have Marlboro, Marboro XL. Marlboro XXL.  One can very quickly work out that the XL or XXL boxes would be more expensive, but how did we get to this point of using XL, etc to denote the size of the cigarette box? 

During the week I was in Flensburg (dreaming about Dallas), I had stopped in a little shop to purchase cigarettes an actually saw the complexity in action.  I tried to request a pack for 7 euro, only to find that they were sold out of not only the 7 euro, but also the 8 euro and 9 euro.  They did have packs for 10 euro still available, which I discovered happen to be size XXXL.  Such size amounts to almost 2 packs of cigarettes, based on my historic experience. 

Years ago when I started smoking, they really only had one size - a packet of 20. 
I do remember at some point they started offering a "big pack," which contained 25.

At any rate, the cost does not really matter, but I am looking mostly only for the packet which contains 20 cigarettes and costs 7 euro.  All the other boxes are larger and don't fit so well in my pockets. 

From tobacco product sizes, I moved on to coffee and drink sizes, which alone accounted for 45 minutes of my wide-awakeness.  Thirty years ago, I regularly visited my local convenience stores for either a soda or a coffee.   Although 7-11 was the main place, I also frequented a place called Stop N Go.  Stop N Go sold something called a Stop N Go mug, which was basically a thermos that held 32 ounces of beverage, either hot or cold.  It had a handle on it, so was particularly convenient when I was out and about.  I actually used this mug during my time at college; it proved particularly beneficial for those days that I felt like having a mixed drink at the football game on campus (where alcohol was prohibited), or when I was at a party and didn't feel like using one of the dinky 12 oz solo cups. 

The mug also proved useful for filling up on ice and water before going to tennis practice, and certainly for all the late nights where I needed unlimited amounts of coffee.  The mug was ideal for keeping beverages cold or hot. 

In those days, I did tend to drink a lot of soda.  Because my parents did not allow us to have soft drinks at home, I looked forward to any opportunity I got to have a coke or Dr. Pepper, or whatever.  In college, I was free to drink as much soda as I wanted to, and this included me regularly walking around campus with a 2 liter bottle of soda in tow.  My logic was that I could get the 2l bottle at the super market for about the same price as a can of soda from the vending machine. 

Yes, it was a crazy time (hopped up on soda), but I quickly lost my taste for cokes, thank goodness.

At the shop I worked at for the first couple of years after college, there was a 7-11 directly across the street.  I was no longer interested in the big gulp or super big gulp cup sizes that were on offer for soft drinks, but I did drink a lot of their brewed coffee.  We made frequent coffee runs in between customers, and I tended to enjoy the 20oz cup of brewed coffee.  The quality was not fantastic, but the price was right, and these were days when I was still drinking drip coffee.  But I always stuck with the 20oz size. 

A couple of years later I moved on to espresso based coffee, lots of lattes and caps, but a fair amount of espresso as well.  Because this was still kind of a new concept for north Texans, the options were few and far between, and until Starbucks came on the scene, you really could not get any kind of espresso coffee.  I spent a lot of money in those stores over the next 10 years before moving out of the country, and while I do give them credit for helping to develop the coffee consuming market, I did become more and more dismayed as it became harder and harder to get an espresso or double; all the serving cups were for Grande, Venti, and even bigger.  Even now, when I do make a brief visit to a Starbucks during a stateside visit, the staff tend to look at me with surprise when I try and order a "tall."  After all, I didn't want to have a latte with a full glass of milk, but rather an espresso with a bit of milk...

The gradual (or is it explosive) increase in consumption we have experienced over the years certainly has led to a change in the way we look at sizes.  And as I continued to lie away in my bed thinking about size, I started thinking about clothing sizes. 

When I was a senior in high school, I tended to wear shirts sized XL.  Back then, I think we all liked looser fitting clothing, and I usually wore layers, a long sleeved shirt over a t-shirt.  The long sleeved shirt wasn't what I would call baggy, but it was certainly was not snug.  I had some buffalo plaid shirts from the Gap that I absolutely loved.  They were roomy without looking like they were 2 sizes too big for you.  Sure, there were always a few guys in school who were a bit more slender, and sometimes the style didn't fit them as well, as they looked like they were wearing a sail rather than a shirt.

However, eventually people bulk up, or the styles change.  For me, it has been a combination.  I still wear XL sized shirts, and although my height has not changed in 30 years, I did sort of bulk up for a decade or two, and have sort of maintained the same size for the past 10 years or so, not without some effort.

The thing is, is that during the 90s when everybody in the gym including myself was getting bulkier, it was still only the HUGE guys that were suddenly having to wear XXL clothing, and suddenly I noticed more XXL items in various clothing shops. 

Fast forward another decade, and now we are seeing XXL as almost the norm, and XXL and even XXXL are regularly stocked in the various stores.  Part of me is sitting here thinking, "Gee, maybe those will be sizes for cigarette boxes one day," and part of me is a little surprised that from time to time, the XL size is actually too big for me and that I now need a size L.  (Wait, is that a tall or a Grande)

I do not shop for clothes too often, so maybe the size changes come more of a shock to me since I don't keep up with fashion trends as much.  Instead, I just decide on what I like, and stick with it.  Even then, I experience the odd challenge.  Most recently a couple of years back, I bought a couple of sweaters at a boutique, liked them a lot, and decided the following year to return and purchase a couple more similar articles.  On my second trip to the shop, I found that I was no longer an XL, but now an XXL.  This contradicts with my statement in the above paragraph, and I think this is why I was lying in bed unable to sleep, since I was confused as shit as to what size I actually am. 

If from one year to the next, I weigh 87 kilo with a height of 1,82m,  purchase 20 count cigarette packs, and order short (formerly tall) Starbucks beverages, then I should probably be the same size, right?

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz






Sunday, October 20, 2019

A Week of Out of Order

Yes, I had one of those weeks where almost everything didn't go remotely like I had expected it to.  And it almost proved to be just a wee bit too much...

Last Saturday morning, I woke up and switched on the espresso machine, like always.  I then logged on to my laptop, but quickly found that there was no internet access.  Thinking it was just a brief outage, I did some quick troubleshooting, including doing a reset of my router.  I continued to wait for my coffee machine to warm up and kept an eye on the router, which has to go through a little reset process. 

A few minutes later, coffee in hand, my router seemed stuck on the "connection to online" status; it could only get power and show it was operational in my house.  But no service.

I thought back to the evening before when I had spoken via telephone with my father.  He, too, had had internet problems, and they seemed hardware related.   I considered the coincidence, but didn't feel too bent out of shape.  After all, it was the weekend, and I had plenty of other things I could do that did not require online connectivity.  I used the time wisely, and sat in my easy chair in my living room, simply enjoying the quiet Saturday morning and the fact that I was effectively not "connected."

Around noon, I still did not have any connectivity, and I was a little skeptical of my router.  I had one router go bad on me a couple of years back, which prompted me to scurry across town on a busy shopping afternoon to purchase a replacement fritzbox.  I hoped I would not have to do the same thing, but decided to continue waiting a little longer.  Meanwhile, I glanced at one of my mobiles, the one that also has the same service provider as my internet, and noticed that the mobile had no service.

I deduced that this was indeed a Telekom problem.  I still was not sure if it was just a Bryan Telekom problem or if the issue extended wider, but decided to just accept it and move on.  If things were back on line by Monday morning (when I would definitely need internet access), I would deal with it then.  Take it as it comes.

During the early afternoon, I went to the supermarket to pick up a few items, noticing a large handwritten sign right in the entrance to the store indicating that due to an internet outage, NO electronic payments (credit or debit card) were possible.   This posed no problem to me, as I always use cash.  I completed my shopping list, then stood in line with the other people waiting for checkout. 

As per protocol, the cashier asked each person if they were going to be able to pay in cash, and I was a little surprised when the person looked shocked as they said, "Er, no, I was planning to pay with credit card." 

From there, the cashier kind of said, "Didn't you see the sign smack in the front of the store that said we have no internet connection right now?" and the customer had to respond, "No, I did not see the sign."

Fortunately, said customer had enough cash to pay for their items. 

This cycle repeated itself 3 more times (it was a busy Saturday), and each time, I got a little more surprised at just how many people had failed to see the sign in the one entrance to the supermarket that clearly indicated that cash payments were the only option that day.  Furthermore, I was surprised at the reaction each customer had;  they all seemed really irritated and insulted by the inconvenience. 

When it came time for me to pay, I answered "Yes, I am paying with cash," and completed my checkout without any further fuss, then returned home to find that my internet was working again.  Hooray!

I spoke briefly again with my father, who had managed to solve his own issue, and I told him about my morning without connectivity, then went on to enjoy the rest of my weekend.

Monday evening at the kiosk during a break in conversation topic, Ali asked me if I had experienced an internet outage at the weekend.  Suddenly we all were discussing it, and it turns out that the entire neighborhood was out for all of Saturday morning.  Mono had been somewhere else in the city for a few minutes, and had been able to ascertain that the outage would be restored by Saturday lunchtime, which is pretty much what happened.

What's funny about these things, is that when the whole community is without connectivity, it is not as if you can go on to the internet to try and find out about the outage.  Likewise, there is no town crier who comes through and shouts to everyone that there will be no internet connectivity until 13h on Saturday. 

Those of us who meet up on Kioskabend are all pretty logical; each of us had restarted our routers once (or twice), then said, "Whatever.  We will wait for service to resume."  Then, we all just got on with things.

On Tuesday evening, I went to catch my U-Bahn to get to an appointment in the city, and I started getting a little antsy when the train did not depart once all the passengers had gotten on.  Instead, we sat for another 5 minutes, then another 5.  I was standing in the very last car, as it was convenient for the stop where I would have to get off.   From my vantage point, I could see all the people coming down the stairs to wait on the U-Bahn.  (Ironically, the escalator was out of order).  In these situations, when someone notices that a train is still waiting, they immediately make a mad dash to try and catch THAT train, instead of having to wait another 7 or 8 minutes for the next one.

Because of a 10 minute delay, this happened about 60 times, with various people casually walking down the steps, noticing the train car, putting on a hopeful facial expression as they suddenly leap off the last 3 steps and sprint a few steps to the train car. 

Yes, I have done this countless times myself.

At any rate, the U-Bahn delay was going to result in me arriving late to my appointment, so I quickly phoned to apologize for my tardiness, and right then the U-Bahn Fahrer announced that we would have to EXIT the train, as it was no longer in service, due to a fault. 

Well, the other passengers reacted as if this was the biggest inconvenience in the world.  In fact, such events do happen with some regularity, and it's just one of those things.  I did feel bad for inconveniencing the person I was going to meet.  I actually wondered why I had not taken an earlier U-Bahn so as to guarantee that I would be punctual for my appointment, rather than take the one I had intended, which would have normally gotten me to my destination right on time.

A couple of minutes later, another U-Bahn arrived, and we were all a bit overcrowded on the train.  I got to my appointment, apologized profusely, then upon completion, headed back to the U-Bahnt o return home. 

3 stops from home, the train pulled into the station, but one of the automatic doors could not close all the way.  It happened to be in the car I was in, so I watched as the driver had to come out of his little cabin and try to force the door closed.   Meanwhile, I watched a few people walking down the steps, suddenly their eyes got wide as they immediately sprang for the waiting U-Bahn. ("Hurry Eunice, the train is still there!  We can make it!")

After a few minutes of fiddling about, the driver finally force closed the door.  He did this with a bit of elbow-grease.  But, once he was back in his little driving cabin, he announced over the P.A. "Hey, everybody out, this U-Bahn is now out of order.  Due to a technical fault."

Damn.

So, we all got out and waited for the next car, which arrived about 3 minutes later.  I proceeded home and kind of chuckled.  Again, a first for me:  I have never had 2 consecutive trips on the U-Bahn cancelled for the same reason on the same day.  But, take it as it comes.  And live with it.

Earlier in the day, I had received some new sheet music, and I had already spent a couple of minutes sight-reading during my lunch break.  With some dismay, I discovered that despite how simple the tunes sounded, particularly the bass part, my left hand was not cooperating.  The music was quite a bit more technically challenging than I had initially anticipated.  I realized that I would need to do some exercises to strengthen my left hand.  I did not feel annoyed, but rather challenged.  After all, this is something I can influence myself.  Furthermore, music is EASY, it just may be unfamiliar. 

When we used to stand around and kick the hacky-sack in college, Pablo would always make a reference to a Daniel Day Lewis movie when he was unable to complete a kick or touch with his left foot; those readers with a strong familiarity with the sport can easily understand.  We tend to use our dominate hands and feet whenever possible, and sometimes the lack of coordination is noticeable in the less capable hand or foot. 

As I went about my business on Tuesday evening, I reflected on my week so far.  Yes, I had experienced several instances where things were out of order, but for the most, order had been somewhat restored without too many headaches.

Then came Wednesday.  I got a call from my boss, who asked me to consider making a decision that would have a negative impact on my livelihood.  This brought the week of out of order to a whole new level, one with a different type of meaning.   I won't go through too many of the details of the request, but I will say that I felt hurt, insulted, and dismayed.  I felt like I had been kicked in the gut once again, and it really wiped me out.

Wednesday was pretty much a write off as days go.  I managed to find a small important high point by wishing young Pablo a happy birthday where I celebrated simply by picking up my dry cleaning from the shop down the street.  To help put things in context, the little bell that they have the counter of the cleaner's wasn't working, so I had to actually shout and try to announce myself to the woman who was in the back operating the noisy laundry equipment. 

That night, I just sat on the couch in bewilderment.  I was angry, confused, frustrated, and just felt sick to my stomach.  I did not want to leave the house, so just stared at some program on television until I fell asleep. 

For the next couple of days, I did not sleep well, did not feel well, as I deliberated on how I was going to answer my boss's request.   I was not really feeling much better Thursday evening, but I trudged over to the pub and had a little chat with a couple of friends.  It helped to discuss things, and I was somewhat thankful that my friends were supportive and thoughtful.  They recognized that I was in a really shitty situation.  Things were definitely out of order.

As the evening progressed, I did reflect on the conversations I had already had, with my father, my friends, a few other Kumpels, and with myself. 

I did not sleep any better Thursday night, and I woke up really feeling in a dark mood Friday morning.  By this time, I had made my decision, but was not looking forward to giving my answer to my boss.  During the course of the work day, I had a couple of chats with some colleagues, and I got the impression that they were in similar predicaments, and feeling just as lousy as I was. 

As we neared the end of the work day, I hoped desperately to have another chat with my father, but he was offline and doing other things.  Finally, just before Feierabend, I informed my boss of my decision, and had to deal with the fact that he wanted to know my reasoning or reasons behind my decision.  I elected not to share those details (again feeling a bit put out that the question was even raised) but I did reveal how lousy I had been feeling for the past 48 hours. 

At the close of our conversation, I was on OK terms with my boss, and we actually shared a couple of jokes.  That sort of helped my mood, as did the fact that I had at least brought some closure to the topic.  From there, I will have to live with any consequences or whatever else might happen, but at least I can be proud of me for making my decision and believing in my decision.  I felt a little bit of emotional release as I decided also NOT to spend or waste time second guessing, but instead, getting on with things.

I felt like I just wanted to be by myself in a dark room, but I told myself that first, I would go have a couple of beers at the pub, as quietly as possible. 

As I walked the few steps to the pub, my mobile alerted me to a text from a friend of mine who had just gotten in to town, and did I want to meet up.  I quickly texted back that I was just entering the pub and would be around for a couple of beers, but would definitely be having an early night. 

A few minutes later, she walked into the pub, and we greeted each other.  I had just gotten through updating Mono on the past 24 hours (we had spoken the previous evening, so he knew what was on my mind), but then got to give Susie the full story from start to finish.  

And, it really helped to share the experience, particularly since it was a thing of the (recent) past. 
Discussing the whole thing one more time was actually helpful in the "restoring order" part of the process.  I felt reassured that I had conducted the right (for me) decision making steps, and I felt better as we wrapped things up for an early evening.

I was still feeling absolutely wiped out, as one understandably would feel after having gone through such an emotional period.  I just wanted to cook a little dinner and collapse on the couch, which is exactly what I did.

Saturday morning I felt a bit more rested, but opted for a rather quiet day.  I actually made some impressive progressive with my left hand on the new music, and my mood improved as I got to speak again with my father, and later on with my sister.  Of course, during our weekly conversations (usually every Saturday), my sister and I take turns answering the question, "How was your week?" so yesterday I did have relate the whole experience one more time, but again, it was okay. 

No one likes to be put into an unpleasant situation, and I don't think anyone looks forward to dilemmas that put so much emotional strain on a person, but we have all been there.   My boss didn't like being put into the position to have ask me the question in the first place.  And my left hand was not overly thrilled to be pushed into an uncomfortable position earlier in the week.

But again, and I cannot stress this enough, it's about effortless mastery for me.  This week proved that there was an element of effort required, but through it all, I managed to contribute to restoring order. 

What happens tomorrow or the day after is something that I will simply deal with when the time comes.  I am reasonably sure that it is going to be exciting. 

see you out there
bryan













Sunday, October 13, 2019

A Sunny Week of Rain

This new project I am involved with at work brings a lot of excitement, expectation, and energy, and a whole lot of stress.  All of this comes really as no surprise; I commented a few weeks ago that I had anticipated this, and I would even go so far as to say that I embrace it.  True, I am still feeling a little out of practice with the overall pace of things.  Additionally, getting comfortable with all of the communication and cultural styles is still very unfamiliar to me.  For example, I had not counted on my customer expecting me to micromanage our repair partner, and I absolutely had not counted on my customer micromanaging me micromanaging the partner.  This seems ludicrous to me. 

As a result, I notice myself getting a little more wound up more frequently than I would like.  And, when there is a brief break in the action, the fatigue hits and I tend to feel wiped out. 

The other week during my visit to Budapest, my customer informed me that they were sending a representative to my German partner for 15 days.  15 DAYS!?!?    Normally a supplier visit should last no longer than 2-3 days, so 15 days was about 2 1/2 weeks too long.  Fortunately I was able to help the customer understand that maximum 4 days would be sufficient, on condition that the customer clearly indicate their agenda.   The whole email exchange I had with the customer on this topic was exhausting enough; I could only wonder how the actual visit to the partner would be. 

It was challenging enough to get the customer to provide their travel plans (which would then allow me to coordinate the visit with the partner), but on the 1st of October, I finally got my hotel booked in Flensburg.  I would have to travel on a Sunday, then return the following Friday.

The first week of October includes a German public holiday, which this year fell on Thursday.  I was relieved to have the  4 day work week, especially since I knew I would have the following weekend cut short.  I did not intend to stay out so late on the night before the holiday, but it was one of those special nights when all the stars align.  I kept bumping into friends I had not seen in awhile, and spent the whole evening really enjoying myself.  When I did get to bed, I winced as I looked at the clock:  3:30am.   But only slightly.

Fortunately, I had Thursday for a recovery day, then back to work on Friday.  Friday evening, I met up with a couple of friends for dinner, and again, had an enjoyable evening.

Then, the anxiousness crept back in.  I felt a little tense as I prepared for my week in Flensburg.   I resented having to travel on a Sunday, but I pretended that it would be like a little holiday.  This little jedi-mind trick worked for about 5 seconds until I remembered that there would a customer in tow for the entire week.  But, I opened my mind and reminded myself to simply accept whatever would happen. 

I caught a mid-day train from Frankfurt to Hamburg, which was really poor planning on my part.  The train was full of Sunday travelers, and even more so because of the autumn school break.  Lots of families were on board with younger travelers.  Thus, no seat reservations were available, and I put all my hopes in grabbing a seat in the restaurant car of the train.  Turns out, a lot of other people had this same idea, so I eventually found myself standing at the other end of restaurant car in the snack bar area, which only provides a few little places to stand at.  

Of course I was slightly overdressed, as I was anticipating the weather in the north of Germany.  In a crowded railway car, I started sweating, which did not help my mood. 

30 minutes outside of the city, the conductor came on to the PA system and asked if any doctors on board could urgently come to car number 5 to help attend to a passenger who had fallen ill.  I must say I was rather impressed to see about 4 people scurry through the snack area on their way to the other end of the train (car 5); I really appreciate witnessing people's willingness to help others in need. 

Well, the ailing passenger did need additional treatment, so the train made an unscheduled stop at the next station.  Here, we waited for about 40 minutes as the ambulance people collected the passenger and went to hospital. I have experienced many things in my years of traveling with Deutsche Bahn, but this was the first time for something like this. 

We were scheduled to arrive in Hamburg around 17h, which would have been sufficient time for me to visit the lavatory and grab a snack before taking the regional train from Hamburg on to Flensburg, a further 2 hours to the north.  With the delay we had experienced, we were now going to be pulling into Hamburg about 90 seconds before my connecting train would depart.  This is one of the disadvantages to railway travel (or airplane travel, for that matter), but I am usually okay with the delay.  I know from experience never to schedule any important event (or meeting) so close to my travel arrangement, preferring instead to create as big a buffer as possible. (Hence the reason I was traveling on a Sunday, so as to be able to meet with the customer on a Monday, AFTER a night's rest.)

What this particular delay meant, however, is that I would have to use the toilet on the train, and normally I tend to exclude the train lavatories from my list of safe havens.  To be fair, the facilities on the ICE trains are quite superior to those on the regional trains, but there is one little point I always dread:  the sliding door to the facility.  Over the years, I have had the door mysteriously slide open during my activity, and I am rather helpless to do anything about it.  My father has encountered the same situation multiple times during his visits to Germany, most recently on our trip to Vienna.  (On that particular occasion he waited until we were eating dinner before telling me of his adventure earlier on the train when we were pulling into a particular station, where he ended up giving a show to all the passengers who were waiting to leave the train.)

So,  I like to avoid these situations whenever possible.  But, when you gotta go, you gotta go.

I cannot express how relieved I was to find that in this particular train, the sliding toilet door had a seemingly secure latch that would ensure that I could have an undisturbed moment.   Despite the secure latch, I was still rather terrified that it would magically unlock itself and the door would slide open.  (What's behind door number 3, Monty?)

Personal business seen to, I prepared myself for the train's arrival to Hamburg, and tried to calculate how many people I would have to hurdle when scurrying from platform 14 to 11, which requires one to go up a flight of stairs, cross the terminal to the appropriate track, then go back downstairs to the actual train platform. 

The train itself finished service service in Hamburg, so everyone has to get off.  Most of the time, everyone has to get a connecting train, so in short, everyone is in the same situation; pressed for time and in danger of missing their connection. 

Anyone who has experienced the race through a train station or an airport to catch their connection knows that it is exhilarating only if you actually make the connection.  Otherwise, it just sucks. 
Sometimes I don't even make the effort to try to catch the connection, knowing that I can simply wait for a few minutes and catch the next train.  However, the train from Hamburg to Flensburg runs every hour, and it's a two hour ride.  I wanted to make this connection.

And I did.  Barely.

With seconds to spare, I found myself at one end of the regional train in the car reserved for people with bicycles and other bulky things.  Luckily, I did manage to find a jump seat that I could sit in.  Again, the train was rather full of passengers, not a huge surprise as it was the local means for people who live outside of Hamburg to go back home after a day out in the city. 

I closed my eyes for a moment to try and relax myself, then was startled awake as a group of what seemed to be one or two families crowded into the seats next to me.  They had a few small children with them, which meant they had two bulky strollers, and because of the energy that kids have, it was not easy for them to get settled.  Instead, the kids bounced around and excitedly ran around in the train car. 

In total, the group amounted to about 10 people, which was confirmed when they presented their tickets to the conductor.  Deutsche Bahn has something called the Happy Weekend Ticket, which enables a group of up to 5 people to travel on the regional train for a really really low price, something like 30 euro. It is very practical, and I have used such ticket myself.  (For comparison purposes, my own ticket cost about the same as their ticket for a group of 5)

At any rate, I casually observed the group, who were chatting mostly in Arabic, but from time to time I heard a bit of German.  The kids were energetic and cute.  Due to the ages of the travelers, I could not quite figure out who was an older brother or sister, who was an uncle or aunt, or which kids belonged to which families.  I like to people watch, so spent most of the journey being entertained by the two families.  One group got off in a town about an hour outside of Hamburg, and the other family continued on with me to the final stop of Flensburg.  I got to help out from time to time to collect the pacifier off the ground; one of the kids kept throwing it gleefully.

It was already 19h30 by the time we got to Flensburg, and I was really looking forward to getting to the hotel.  One of the guys at my repair partner had booked me into a rather nice hotel that was reasonably priced.  It also had an extremely nice restaurant that my colleague had raved about, so I was hoping for a good experience. 

Well, the hotel was awesome.  It's right on the waterfront of the harbor in Flensburg, and has sort of a maritime theme.  For example, instead of having a check-in and check-out date, I had an embark and disembark date.  The guy at the reception desk did not actually greet me with an "ahoy" but I could tell that he thought about it. 

It had been a long day, particularly as I had stood for the 4 hour train journey to Hamburg, so I quickly unpacked, then went back downstairs to the restaurant, having noted that my hotel room was really really nice.   The restaurant was also impressive, and I was treated to exceptional service from the young, professional waitstaff. 

I had checked out the hotel website prior to my arrival so was already aware that the restaurant prices were going to be a little more expensive than my normal eating out experiences tend to be.  I decided on a nice starter, then went with the chef's suggestion of a main dish, and I was duly satisfied with the experience.  I enjoyed a nice after dinner espresso, then settled the bill against my room, then went upstairs to relax and fall asleep.  The coming week was going to be intense. 

Since Flensburg is right on the water, the weather tends to be a little interesting.  The temperatures were certainly cooler than in Frankfurt, and I was glad that Sunday evening and Monday morning had no rain.   I ate breakfast in the hotel, then did work from my room until midday, before heading over to visit the repair partner.  We needed to strategize in advance of the arrival of our customer the following morning. 

I was still feeling a little resentful because I had had to travel on a Sunday, so as to be ready for a Monday morning customer visit onsite at the partner.  During the previous week at somewhat late notice, I discovered that the customer would in fact arrive Monday evening, to be on site from Tuesday through Friday.  As I had already booked my hotel (noncancelable) for the Sunday evening, I had to travel the day earlier.  Furthermore, I never like Monday morning visits, as it is unfair to a repair partner who needs sufficient time to get the working week started operationally.  This is why I didn't try to get over to see them until the Monday afternoon.)

My afternoon visit was productive enough.  At least we thought we would be ready for the customer to be on site with us the following morning.  I did not stay any longer than necessary, so returned to my hotel shortly before 17h.  I took a little walk around the water front, then headed back to the hotel restaurant for dinner.

I had already explored and was enjoying my accommodations.  In fact, I was treating the whole experience as a little holiday for myself, albeit a working holiday.  The hotel is rather new and has modern fixtures.  Thus, it had one of those awesome rain shower shower heads, where you can stand there and just have lovely water come down on you.  (I am never sure why we all love these rain shower heads in our bathrooms, but always hate to go outside when it is raining...)

The way our company handles the travel expenses is kind of the norm for German companies.  You receive a daily food allowance that has no bearing on where you actually eat.  I already knew that the daily allowance would not come close to covering the meals I would be enjoying in the hotel restaurant, but I did not care.  I was on vacation. 

Monday evening one of the waitstaff greeted me, recognizing that I had been a guest the previous evening.  This time, I chose a different starter and entree.  Again, I was really impressed.  The restaurant was busy, but not full.  Thus, I had time to sit with my book, relax, and eventually I found myself lost in thought.  I was thinking about the next few days with the customer, but I also allowed my thoughts to wander freely. 

Sometimes when I am traveling on my own, especially if I am eating alone in a restaurant, I imagine myself as a restaurant critic, perhaps an eccentric one.  If the restaurant is particularly nice, like the one in the hotel, I pay closer attention to the presentation and the overall experience.  So, that Monday evening I took extra interest in my entree of roast chicken breast with a beet medley. (the German translation is more eloquent).  I counted about 5 different types of beet, which was surprising in its own right, based on my inexperience with the particular vegetable. 

The food was really good, but I was also impressed by the waitstaff.  Everyone was quite young, but always smiling and professional.  Sure, there was a head waiter (or waitress) who seemed to help direct traffic, but overall I was amazed that the kids held their own, showing attentiveness and knowledge that was beyond their years.   Earlier, I had been outside side in the courtyard on the rear of the hotel and had seen some of the staff arriving for the dinnertime service.  They were dressed in hoodies and sneakers, and on any given day if you met any of them out and about, you would assume that they were on their way to (or coming from) a skate park. 

I tend to try not to judge people too often, but like everyone, I may develop my own biases, based on my experiences.  The folks that work in my local pub are of similar age, similar dress, but unfortunately several of them don't exhibit the same level of professional effort while on the job.  I took a moment to reflect on my own experiences working as a teenager, back in 1988.  I was just as much of a dipshit then as I am now, but there was always a certain amount of flair.  And not least of all, I did take the job seriously, and this is what impressed me about the hotel restaurant staff.  During their breaks or personal time, they might have been just as inclined to surf grocery carts in the parking lot (as I did with Whitman years ago on the way back inside to Albertson's) or do whatever, but still maintain their professional attitude. 

A third beer was in order for the evening, and I continued to sit and reflect.  I found myself reminiscing of other events from 1988, including a few interesting drives around the city in the Nugget, and countless hours spent at Bill's records and tapes.  After all, allowing the mind to wander freely is a nice thing to do while on vacation. 

Tuesday started with buckets of rain, typical for Flensburg.  I got a taxi to the repair partner, and met our customer, a young woman who had been tasked by her boss to spend the next several days with us on site discussing the repair operations.  As expected, the day was stressful and chaotic.  I found myself feeling really frustrated with the customer, and noticed my colleague from the repair partner showing similar signs of strain.   I think we were both rather pleased when the customer announced that she wanted to return to her hotel for the evening, thus relieving us from any obligation to do the "wining and dining" crap that sometimes happens on these kind of trips.

This effectively gave my colleague and me freedom to head off to a local favorite restaurant, where we focused on enjoying our beers and the chat more than anything else.  I have know this particular repair partner for several years, but I needed some one on one time with my direct counterpart so as to get to know him better outside of work.  We had a great evening, and were able to laugh together about the absurdities we were experiencing with a customer who was intent on micromanaging me and the repair partner. 

The colleague and myself are similar in age, and we certainly have quite a bit more experience than our customer, but in these situations, we always have to respect that we have a customer.  This means that we have to find ways to communicate and accommodate each other.  Most people know that I do not subscribe to the "Customer is always right" philosophy, but I never forget that we have a customer. 
This alone creates a shitload of stress, since I usually find myself having to work harder (and less efficiently) with customers who might have unreasonable requests.  I often struggle in such situations, particularly when it seems that the customer is unwilling to look for any flexibility or compromise.  A specific example happened during the course of the week with said customer, who seems hell bent on doing things manually, despite my best efforts to demonstrate why using the system to drive a solution that will result in a fewer opportunities for human error. 

It's enough to drive you bat shit.

Wednesday and Thursday were pretty much repeats of our Tuesday work day.  The days were long and frustrating, but I learned from the experience and made the most of things.  I learned how I can better communicate with the customer, and also with my repair partner.   Fortunately, I was able to take a nice shower in a rainstorm each morning, and enjoyed a couple more lovely meals in the hotel's restaurant.  During the course of the week, the waitstaff got used to me spending a couple of hours each evening in the restaurant, graciously enjoying time to myself. 

My head was full of some many thoughts, so even though my hotel room was cozy and comfortable, I did not sleep as restfully as I wanted.  By Thursday, I was really looking forward to the journey back to Frankfurt, just in time for the weekend. Finally a chance to rest. 

Each day was full of rain and sun, as seems to be the norm in Flensburg.  Two days in a row I woke up with nice sunlight in my hotel room, and as I peered out the window to the rear courtyard, I kept thinking, "hey, that's really cool that they have a big fountain that makes it look like it is raining outside."

Then, when I actually looked more closely, I realized that it was raining heavily, even though the sun was shining brightly.  I loved it.

That Thursday evening, after I had concluded the business trip with the partner and the customer, I taxied back to the harbor, then stopped off at a little shop to buy cigarettes and a couple of bottles of water; this had been my little routine during the week.  As I paid for my items, I chatted with the shop lady, who asked where I came from.  This prompted us to have a little discussion about the German language and my accent, partially influenced by where I live in a different region of Germany, and partially because I simply have an accent. 

It made for an interesting conversation, and just added on to the experience of the week.  A few days prior, I had been standing outside the hotel where another couple were having a chat.  I couldn't help but overhear them, but quickly realized that I was not fully understanding what they were saying in German.  I was not trying to deliberately follow the conversation, but found myself a little mystified that I couldn't fully understand the dialect.

When the penny dropped and I realized that they were actually speaking Danish, I figured it was time to head back home to Frankfurt. 

The Friday morning, I elected to take a mid-morning train back to Hamburg, so enjoyed the breakfast buffet and a couple of espressos before checking out of the hotel.  I was a little sorry to leave, as the hotel and meal experience had been so nice.  That being said, I was exhausted from the intensity of the week, and was more than ready to go back home.

I found a seat on the regional train, which begins its run from Flensburg.  This was particularly important because two stops later (10 stops between Flensburg and Hamburg), about 20 teenagers got on the train, all with overnight bags.  The train had already filled up quickly, and regional trains don't have reservations.  Sometimes the trains can be overflowing with passengers, and other times they can be almost empty.  Having a seat is always a bonus.

We arrived to Hamburg on time, and once again I was reminded of just how chaotic that train station is.  I had 45 minutes before my connecting high speed departed for Frankfurt, so, as always, I located the little boys room, but kind of wished I hadn't.  Still, it was likely going to be better than the train facilities, even if the doors latched properly. 

My Frankfurt train left promptly at 13h, and I luckily found a seat in the restaurant car.  I got a little work done over the next four hours, and felt fairly relaxed.  Another passenger and I had a little chitchat during the last hour of our journey, which made for a nice way to complete the travel. 

Once we reached Frankfurt, I grabbed the next U-Bahn to my neighborhood, and by 17h30 was unpacking my suitcase and just feeling delighted to be home.  The week had been long, stressful, but for the most part productive. 

I managed to have a skype call with my father for 45 minutes, something I had missed during the week.  We normally chat every couple of days, but with me being on the business trip, that was not possible. 

By just past 19h, I walked into the pub, glad to be back in normal routine.  I greeted some friends that I hadn't seen for the past week, and enjoyed the comforts that a Friday night in the pub always bring.  The week was catching up with me, and I felt really tired, but stayed a little longer in the pub with a couple of friends before finally heading home to my own bed. 

The chilly rainy weather (mixed with moments of sunshine) in Flensburg is in the past.  Frankfurt has had mild temperatures through the weekend, and it is pleasant enough.

In fact, it's time to finish this post and get outside and enjoy the weather.  Monday will come soon enough.

see you out there
bryan