A few weeks ago when I had a layover for the first time in Missoula, Montana, I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't go back to sleep. I had been all set for a good night's rest because I was in my own Mountain Time Zone and didn't even have to get up until 5:30 a.m. A couple hours later than we had been getting up on layovers all month. Both good circumstances for a full night of sleep.
But when my peepers wouldn't close again an hour or so after midnight when I got up to go to the bathroom--and I had tried every trick in the book to get back to sleep including the ones my mother taught me when I was growing up--I began to panic. I NEVER look at the clock in the middle of the night just so I don't start counting the hours that I have left for a potentially good night's rest. That can put me into a panic right there if there is less than an hour: "I'll never be able to get enough rest for a full day of flying ahead of me.!" Then if I don't take a peek at the clock, I start to second guess myself that I didn't turn the alarm on. That I didn't set the alarm for the right time. That I didn't even set the alarm at all!
I tried NOT to look at the clock. Too late! My eyes automatically caught the red display which revealed I had been tossing and turning for about two and a half hours. I suspect I had even gone to sleep and dreamed I was awake. I've done THAT before. Then miraculously, mercifully, I fell into a deep, deep sleep but woke up abruptly because of my very vividly real dream.
I dreamed I was in a group somewhere--it had started out with Judy in the group--and there was a male Southwest flight attendant. The details blurred as I gradually awakened, but I was supposed to be getting ready for a 7 am pick up. The Southwest guy was boasting about something, and I thought maybe I had better just check the clock while he was telling his story. It was 8:30 am!
I was freaked out and said I would just have to go to work the way I was dressed I still had my uniform on, but I remember trying to pull it off over my head and also a big necklace with some red daisies on it. I recall thinking I was going to have to have someone in the group take me to DIA. I distinctly saw the way to DIA from Brice and Judy's house to the airport. That was when I woke up for real and was afraid to look at the clock because the memory of that awful morning in Houston when the alarm was off by an hour and I had to go without a shower, etc. has been etched permanently onto my subconscious brain. Mind games!
My heart was racing because of my dream. I was REALLY scared to look at the clock. But I knew I had to. It was 5:10 am! I hadn't been asleep very long, yet I had managed to stuff a whole detailed story full of stress into that compressed byte of time while I was asleep. After the feeling of relief that I wasn't late after all, it still took me a few minutes lying there to calm my racing heart. While I was staring at the ceiling I thought of an experience I had in Chicago just a few months after I began flying.
It was Fall of 2000 when I had luckily found a nice two-bedroom apartment in Mount Prospect not too far from United's Training Center in Elk Grove Village. My roommates were young, about the same ages as my older kids. The young man Greg and the beautiful young woman Renata deBorba (ALWAYS thought that was a classy name!) shared one of the bedrooms--not as boyfriend/girlfriend, though--and I shared the other bedroom with an attractive young woman by the name of Shannon O'Donnell. Because our suitcases and totes took up so much space, we had a "house rule" that we parked all our suitcases out in a designated space in the living room.
I had let Brittany take my car to Provo to have at college (what WAS the name of that place?). I had cavalierly waved goodbye to her as I sailed out the door for DIA and six weeks of training in Chicago just days before her classes started. What a contrast to the times Harold and Brice left for college. I had "mother-henned" the big boys into their dorm rooms at BYU and Ricks, respectively, but poor Britty I left to get where she needed to go on her own. Thankfully, big sister Burgandy took her and her stuff over to Provo. So, when Britty called and asked if she could take my car to college--what could I say after I had so unceremoniously left her to fend for herself in a new college experience? "Of course, you can."
However, the initial request for Brittany to have my car at her disposal until such and such a time was extended when she called and wheedled me into a new agreement terminating several more weeks down the road. That meant I was without wheels in Chicago, but it was a doable thing. As soon as I got my reserve assignment each time, I would call a taxi and take the $5/5 minute ride to the Training Center so I could catch the UAL bus headed for O'Hare. It all worked out.
One night I was home alone in the apartment. The others were each on a trip, so I turned out all the lights and went to bed, knowing that I would probably get a call from the Crew Desk for my own trip sometime after midnight. Not long after I went to bed, my roommates each came home from their assignments, said a brief "hello" and also went to bed.
Sure enough, about four hours later I got a call for a 6 a.m. standby assignment at O'Hare. I called for a taxi pick-up at 5:30am and reset my alarm so I could sleep another hour or so. When it was time to get up, I moved through the dark of our bedroom to the bathroom which was connected to mine and Shannon's room so I could get ready. (Greg and Renata used the main bathroom for their personal care.) After I was completely prepared for work, I tiptoed out to the main room and flipped on the light so I could put a few things into my bag.
Mine was the only suitcase and tote siting in the living room. The rest of the area was bare! I shook my head like maybe I wasn't seeing straight. Where were the other bags that were supposed to be parked next to mine? All three of them had come in after I had gone to bed.
I just stared at my suitcase for a minute or so. Then I tiptoed back to my bedroom and gently turned on the light. Shannon's bed was empty! I walked to the other side of the apartment and went down the short hallway to Greg and Renata's room. Again I carefully turned on the light switch. Their beds were empty, too! But I knew they had come home! I had talked to them before I went back to sleep and they went to bed. Yet they clearly weren't there!
I called the Crew Desk. "This is Georgia Nichols, 265584. Did you call me and give me a standby assignment for 6 a.m.?" The voice on the other end told me "no" and that my number on the board still hadn't come up. "Are you sure?" After the crew scheduler assured me I did NOT have an assignment, I then told her the whole story. It was apparent by my file number that I was fairly new. So she probably "got it" right away. Then she started to chuckle.
"Honey, this job will make you crazy! Cancel that taxi and go back to bed!"
So I did. Never did get a call with an assignment for the entire rest of the day. And when my roommates came home the next afternoon, we all got a huge laugh out of the dream I had that was sooo real I got up and got ready to go to work.
Needless to say, the crew scheduler was right.
This job has made me crazy@#$%&*?!
No comments:
Post a Comment