It feels like a lifetime ago, but at one point in time I was a Change Consultant that specialized in major ERP integrations. In other words, I was a know-it-all consultant that went into companies and assisted with the implementation of multi-million dollar software packages. I was paid crazy money to develop and deliver training, and to work with managers to strategize plans for an effective and cost-efficient accounting or human resources systems integration.

Along with that crazy money came the need for crazy travel. There just aren’t that many companies spending upwards of $20 million for new software in any one city, so to really make a living at it, I was frequently on the road. I was, in fact, a Road Warrior, traveling to as many as three cities in a week, forever flying out on Sundays and returning home on Friday evenings. I liked it.

Then came September 11 and with it came new complications with travel and a downturn in the ERP market. Those factors coupled with the stress of constantly seeking a “next project” started to get to Mr. Husband and I, so I finally sought out and accepted “typical” full-time employment. For a while I still traveled, at times as much as 25% of the time.

Then came Alexis, and I halted all travel. Until recently. In my current role, a little travel is required. Rarely is it more than a quick run to a city and back in the same day. In fact, tonight is the very first time in Alexis’ entire life that I will have to spend the night away from home without her. Mr. Husband is on his own with the Toddler, while I am thrust back into the world of airports and travel.

Somewhere along the way, I had forgotten that airports are a people watcher’s dream. In the brief time I spent in Atlanta for a layover, I chuckled at an older gentleman as he carefully waddled, trying to not spill his coffee. He donned brown loafers, knee-high athletic socks, wrinkled linen shorts, an expensive looking hounds tooth sports jacket, and atop his balding head was a black Indiana Jones style hat, with the strings tied tightly below his jiggly chin. As I exited the ladies room, I grinned at a man as he stared in disbelief, trying to reconcile whether he was walking into the ladies room or I was walking out of the mens room. I think he might still be standing in that short hallway, trying to work through his confusion. There were the usual Obvious Tourists weighted down by bag after bag as they stop to read every. single. sign. trying to figure out which way is up. Then there was my favorite, a proud papa who bragged to a total stranger that his 15 years 4 month old son was destined for the NFL, having already reached 240 pounds and 6’ 4”. I may have teased him that I thought only women tracked their childrens ages down to the month, if I hadn't just been a eavesdropper to the conversation.

I had forgotten just how fun it is to sit back in an airport, laugh, and watch the world go by.

It’s more fun to sit back, laugh, and watch her go by.