I’m : a programmer, writer, podcaster, geek, and coffee enthusiast.

I got absolutely no work done.

What I told myself before the trip:

Nope. I hardly did anything. I think it was a combination of factors:

I never even took my laptop out on the plane rides. I played iPhone games, slept, and was infuriated by screaming infants. (Seriously, I’d gladly pay $50 extra for a flight with a minimum passenger age requirement of, say, three years old. Or maybe two. At what age can you be reasonably assured that most kids won’t scream and cry constantly for three hours? This one was young enough to be carried — and seated, I think — in one of those little chair things with a handle, which I assume means that the parents still probably express the kid’s age in months.)

Now it’s 2 AM, my body thinks it’s 11 PM, I can’t sleep, and I’m recovering from a day of bad airport food (except for our breakfast of natural, organic, extremely locally grown stolen fruit) and a long weekend of busy days with strange hours. There’s absolutely no chance I’m getting anything done until tomorrow.

Next time I travel, I’ll be a bit more honest with myself about my work expectations: I won’t get anything done, and I should just let go of productivity delusions and enjoy the trip.