I'm heading to PA today after I drop Julia at the airport.

Thank God, I'm ready to get the hell out of D.C.

This trip has been a disaster.

For starters, our Airbnb ended up being a small, cramped room. The "separate work area" advertised was nothing more than a tiny, short table paired with a tall, uncomfortable chair that was unusable by anyone over four feet tall.

When we arrived, the access code didn't work - thankfully, housekeeping let us in.

But when we returned from getting groceries, we were locked out again.

When I was locked out the following morning after getting coffee, I'd had enough.

I put Julia in an Uber so she could get to her conference while I packed us up and found another Airbnb.

Luckily, something had opened up much closer to the conference. That meant I could return the $100/day rental car we no longer needed.

Well, I could have if we could check in early, but that wasn't an option.

So, with somewhere to store our luggage or a way to keep food cold, we had to toss the food we'd bought the night before.

Then, not having anywhere to work, I was stuck in a cramped corner of Starbucks all day where I nearly peed in my britches because someone else occupied the bathroom for damn near an hour doing God knows what.

When I picked Julia up at 6:00, she was starving, so we stopped at a local restaurant.

The food sucked.

Then we went to the grocery store and spent about $130 on the same $130 worth of food we'd just tossed.

Ugh.

At the new place, we found that parking the now-unnecessary car would run us another $40/day.

I feel like I'm just tossing money out the window.

Then, the new place had the most complicated check-in of any place we've ever stayed. There were Airbnb instructions, three separate emails, and an app we had to download to get in!

Including the erroneous trip to the East Wing, which is not connected to the West Wing, where our apartment is; it took almost an hour from when we parked until we were inside.

Things did not improve from there.

When I returned from walking to pick up coffee the following day, I discovered mine was cold.

Because I had Zoom meetings and couldn't drive her, Julia had to take an Uber to campus, adding to the already-blown transportation budget for this trip.

For our anniversary, we went to a fancy-pants restaurant, where I ordered a medium-rare strip. It came out well done. I sent it back, and it came out even more well done the second time.

Since the anniversary dinner got messed up, we went for brunch at another fancy-pants joint the next day. Twenty-five minutes after bringing Julia's food, they told us that they were out of what I ordered. We had reservations at the Holocaust Museum and couldn't wait, so I was out of luck for eating.

And that's how this whole trip has gone.

One problem after another.

A shit show, I think they call it.

On the morning of the third day, Julia said, "You've been so ill I can't hardly stand it! It's stressing me out!"

I thought about that.

She was right

I was letting relatively minor shit get to me.

All those problems - plus the million other small problems we had - aren't problems on a global scale.

I had a place to sleep; many people do not.

I [mostly] had food to eat; many people do not.

I had money for the unexpected transportation and food expenses; many people do not.

I had access to clean and sanitary bathrooms; many people do not.

I was not oppressed by my government; many people are.

I didn't have to survive in a war zone; many people do.

The list goes on.

Whatever problems I may have, they pale compared to the millions of people for whom each day is nothing more than a struggle to survive.

Lots of those people would gladly trade their best day for my worst day.

In that context, my problems aren't worth mentioning.

In that context, I am fortunate.

And for that, I am grateful.