I have a quick-and-dirty two days off before having to head to the Chicago Auto Show. After a nightmare of a trip Monday (for no good reason, because weather wasn't to blame for the stupid delays) I am soaking up my time at home.
This time of year is absolute madness for an auto show gal. By the end of the Chicago show I will be surprised if I remember my own name. Of course, I'd better quickly remember it because a few days later I'll head to my next show. The paycheck is what makes these caffeine-fueled, frenzied months worth it. Eyes on the prize!
When I only have a couple of days off to recover before heading back out on the road, here's how I spend it: I hole up in my house seeking as little human contact as possible other than my very closest inner circle, and sometimes not even them. I don't do my hair. I don't do my makeup. I wear old ragged jeans or yoga pants and tee shirts and no shoes. I take bubble baths while watching movies on my laptop (placed safely outside the tub, of course). I spend quality time with my pet, who doesn't leer at me, ask me stupid questions, try to sneak photos of my ass or bitch about whatever we're giving away or lack thereof.
I do load upon load of laundry. I eat meals I had cooked and frozen before my last trip. I regret not making enough for when I come home from my next. I read the huge stack of mail waiting for me and pull out the magazines, saving them to read on the plane later in the week.
If I venture out, it is only when absolutely necessary, like to pick up some food or things I'll need for my next trip like fresh stockings or makeup. Then I scurry back to my quiet little home where I don't have to talk to anyone at all, least of all about naturally aspirated vs turbocharged engines or whether or not my ass is larger or the same size as at the last show.
But tomorrow I will be back in the airport. See you in Chicago!
Porsche 944 Turbo jumps in the MotorWeek wayback machine
2 minutes ago