I'm writing this from a very uncomfortable seat in the New Orleans Airport at 7:00 a.m. I've already been here for close to an hour because the airport shuttle service insisted on picking me up more than three hours before my flight. Across the way from me are two men whose heads keep bobbing as they fall asleep and jerk themselves awake.
I left my house three days ago at 3:30 a.m. to fly to New Orleans for some work and to visit with my very best childhood friend. We've been friends for almost 50 years and she is family to me.
I don't much like to fly. I have a LOT to do. Even though my kids are older, they do, in fact, still need me. Even though my husband is awesome, he kinda’ needs me, too. Packing is a pain. I live two hours from the airport. Travel is expensive. In a word, travel is hard.
I had fun these last three days. I went to a ball. I had brunch with a group of women I barely know. I ate excellent food and drank a bit of champagne. I reconnected with the person who knows me best, gets me completely and loves me unconditionally. We know every one of each others' secrets and we show up for each other. And, invariably, we have fun together.
Years ago, I was trying to talk my husband out of taking on a six-hour drive for a weekend of skiing in Vermont. "It's too long a drive," I whined. "And I have so much work to do. Can't we just stay home and relax."
"It takes work to have a good time," he replied. And that has become our mantra ever since. It is applicable in pretty much every aspect of life. Fun, success, adventure, goal crushing -- indeed even happiness -- takes work.
It's a lesson we all need to be reminded of from time to time.