Locals.
Year Two. Month Eleven. #PNW.
I've spent the last four days at home.
Yup, you read that right.
Off work. I'm not even trying to pick up hours this week, which is rare for me. It's tough sitting still, and I spent the first few days off wondering what people do when they aren't working. I cleaned the whole house. Twice. I cooked about four different soups in my crock pot and planned out meals for the week. I baked cookies. I read. I spent too much time on social media. I relaxed.
The week before this, I was working. A lot. I worked a four-day trip. Colorado Springs. Salt Lake City. Boise. San Diego. Portland. And back again. By the end of the four-day, I was exhausted. And I had stupidly bid for two stand-ups in a row immediately after the four-day ended. I just couldn't do it.
Stand-ups are like actual torture that you get paid extra to endure. You work the last flight out of the night, usually arriving around midnight and then you work the first flight out in the morning, usually around five or six A.M. It's considered continuous duty and so FAA rest rules do not apply. A quick nap of three or four hours and then it's back out again.
And so I decided to do something about it. This year is about taking care of myself, so I decided to change my schedule around a little bit.
I traded my stand-ups for locals. So instead of working all night and sleeping all day, I worked two long "turns," or one-day trips: Oklahoma City and back again on Superbowl Sunday, and an Omaha turn for the grand finale on Monday.
Six days. Thirteen legs. Seven cities. One deadhead. Two different aircraft types. Twenty-four beverage services. Thirty-six flight hours.
But I did it. I actually loved working the locals.
Normally, I avoid locals because of my commute. But the joy of going to work at nine in the morning and being done by six in the evening is such a treat that I can deal with the long commute. Plus, working locals on weekends means no traffic.
I've spent the last four days at home.
Yup, you read that right.
Off work. I'm not even trying to pick up hours this week, which is rare for me. It's tough sitting still, and I spent the first few days off wondering what people do when they aren't working. I cleaned the whole house. Twice. I cooked about four different soups in my crock pot and planned out meals for the week. I baked cookies. I read. I spent too much time on social media. I relaxed.
 |
| Home: Coffee, crossword puzzles, long lazy afternoons of sunshine. |
The week before this, I was working. A lot. I worked a four-day trip. Colorado Springs. Salt Lake City. Boise. San Diego. Portland. And back again. By the end of the four-day, I was exhausted. And I had stupidly bid for two stand-ups in a row immediately after the four-day ended. I just couldn't do it.
Stand-ups are like actual torture that you get paid extra to endure. You work the last flight out of the night, usually arriving around midnight and then you work the first flight out in the morning, usually around five or six A.M. It's considered continuous duty and so FAA rest rules do not apply. A quick nap of three or four hours and then it's back out again.
And so I decided to do something about it. This year is about taking care of myself, so I decided to change my schedule around a little bit.
 |
| That moment when you can't remember where you're flying off to and you have to check your phone to see what day it is. |
Six days. Thirteen legs. Seven cities. One deadhead. Two different aircraft types. Twenty-four beverage services. Thirty-six flight hours.
But I did it. I actually loved working the locals.
Normally, I avoid locals because of my commute. But the joy of going to work at nine in the morning and being done by six in the evening is such a treat that I can deal with the long commute. Plus, working locals on weekends means no traffic.
 |
| When I see this mountain I know I'm going home. |
The rest of my month is mostly locals. Oklahoma City. Boise. Milwaukee. It's a change of pace and I like it. I love sleeping in my own bed at night. Even driving to work in the morning is different when I know that I'll be back home again at night. And my days off feel more normal.
Even if I don't know what to do with myself when I'm not working.
Happy flying!
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