For about five minutes I resolved to just push ahead and go to bed — after all, it was only 12:45am, practically the middle of the afternoon, and I wanted to get a head-start on my beauty sleep. But the smell didn’t relent and my headache worsened, so I called the manager, who, in a dazzling fit of helpfulness reminded me that this is a non-smoking hotel (oh really? someone may have missed the memo), sent a security guard to confirm the smoke (“yep, I can smell it too”), and then offered to have housekeeping come “spray something to freshen up the room”. Well, last I checked, “spraying something” wasn’t going to do anything to stop more smoke from coming into the room; at most, it would just add more fumes to aggravate my already aching head. So I proposed that he put me in a new room and send someone to move my things because there’s no reason to be staying at a JW Marriott and tolerate a cigarette-smoke-filled nap at the end of a 90+ hour workweek.
Now here I am, an hour later, settling into my fresh new room, stuffing the pillow-chocolates into my pockets in preparation for tomorrow, and getting ready for bed. It’s annoying to have lost that hour of sleep but so much more pleasant to breathe clean air than smoke. Plus, meetings don’t start until 10am tomorrow, so I’ll actually be able to get some sleep.
Oh, and whatever positive energy (and/or SWAT teams) you can send my way would be much appreciated — there’s talk of pushing back the Friday deadline and working through the weekend. I really, REALLY want to go home for at least a little while this weekend. Just give me Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning at home and I’ll be happy to come back up here and keep plugging away.