Pondiferous Ponderings

I get to spend most of next week locked in a classroom all day, every day with virtual strangers doing my second mandatory stint of corporate training. This means several things:

1. I will be showering in a shower whose makers had never heard of the concept of slip-resistant floors.

2. Which means I get to spend 90% of my shower time bracing my feet on either side of the tub to avoid doing a stop, drop, and roll with no one around to call 911 and explain to my hubby how I broke my neck.

3. It (referring to my week of corporate training, NOT my graceless attempts at personal hygiene) also means I'm in danger of once again hitting myself in the face with the too-large bathroom door which SHOULDN'T be five inches wider than a normal door thereby tripling my chances of giving myself a black eye with an inanimate object, but which is, nonetheless, a nemesis not to be underestimated.

4. It also means I'll be choosing from prepackaged muffins, blueberry yogurt, or curiously flat bagels every morning for breakfast.

5. And it means I'll be riding a shuttle to and from the hotel and the home office with a driver who still has dreams of one day proving himself on the NASCAR circuit.

6. And let's not forget that it means I might feel ever so slightly homicidal by day two when I'm STILL showering in the spread eagle position, after having face-planted on the bathroom door because I was hurrying to catch the Shuttle of Death so I could snatch the blueberry yogurt that I don't really like from the hands of a virtual stranger who will ask for my phone number at the end of the week even though we've probably spoken less than thirty words to each other. And four of those were "Hands off my yogurt."

7. But most importantly, it means my internet access will be craptastic at best because this hotel, while over-compensating on the bathroom door size, feels no need to provide basic wifi connections for its guests.

8. Which means any window of time I have to blog, Tweet, or check email is going to be mercilessly brief.

9. Which means I need a plan. A blogging plan. One that I can execute over the weekend in pre-written posts to be copied and pasted in the few measly minutes of wifi connection I manage to scrounge.

10. Which is where YOU come in. Got a question you'd like me to answer? (I'll answer anything except a detailed explanation for where I was the night of May 2nd, 1993.) Want to give me five words to work into a short story? Need me to compare the pros and cons of two seemingly unconnected items?

Leave your suggestions/questions/words/whatever in the comment trail and I'll see what I can come up with.

And watch out for rogue bathroom doors.