Last week I discussed my inability to
relax when things are uncertain. I was preparing to travel to Chicago on
business, but it was snowing hard on the Saturday I was scheduled to leave, and
my over-active imagination envisioned all sorts of dire situations that would
thwart my plans to arrive safely in the Windy City.
As it turned out, I made it to Chicago
without a problem — no delays, no lost hotel reservations, and no hungry
raccoons. (See last week’s column for an explanation, sort of.)
On the snowy Saturday when I flew out
of Connecticut, the 5-day weather forecast indicated a chance of flurries on
Tuesday, my return date. But by the time I arrived in Chicago, the forecast had
been slightly revised, and now they were predicting Tuesday would see the most
catastrophic blizzard the Northeast had ever seen in world history — or at
least since the last heavy snow storm a couple years ago.
So I expended all that energy
needlessly worrying about the uncertainties of getting to Chicago safely, and
it turned out I should’ve been focusing all my anxiety on the return trip home!
Sheesh, I hate it when I worry about the wrong irrational fears.
On Monday morning I received a notice
on my cell phone that my Tuesday afternoon flight home was cancelled. There
were instructions to go to the airline website and book another flight for later
in the week.
I immediately excused myself from the
meeting I was in, and went out in the hallway and began frantically searching
for a flight using my phone. I repeatedly got this message from the airline
website: “Heavy volume of traffic right now. Try again later.” Oh great. So I
then phoned my hotel and tried to extend my stay for another night. I was told,
“I’m sorry but we’re completely full Tuesday night. But things often change, so
try again later.”
Uh oh. I wasn’t sure how I would get
home. And I wasn’t sure where I would sleep on Tuesday night. Other than that,
everything was fine. I calmly told myself, “No problem, Bill. You’ll figure
this out. You always handle uncertainty with grace and aplomb, except of
course, when you’re not sure what’s going to happen next.”
I returned to the meeting and tried to
pay attention, but when the other people spoke, my ears only heard Charlie
Brown’s teacher (“Wah-wah, blah-blah”). I didn’t comprehend a single word that
was uttered, because my mind was too busy dwelling on these questions:
- What if
everyone on my cancelled flight gets on the airline website ahead of me,
and by the time I get through, the only available flight isn’t until next
week? Or next month?
- Will I be
able to book another hotel, or will I spend my nights out on the sidewalk,
no doubt battling vicious raccoons and Midwestern badgers?
- What if the
blizzard causes a power outage back home and the pipes freeze and burst?
- What if my
wife, in an attempt to keep the furnace running and prevent frozen pipes,
tries to start the generator, which I never showed her how to use, and the
house burns down?
- What if I’m
stuck in Chicago forever?
- What if
someone asks me a question during this meeting and the only reply I am
able to offer is, “Huh?”
Eventually I booked a flight and my
hotel did find a room for me. So it turned out the greatest uncertainty I faced
was how to make three days’ worth of clean clothes last five days. No problem
for someone like me who handles stress with grace and aplomb — and a lot of
extra deodorant.
No comments:
Post a Comment