Weekly Business Trip to Italy.
A lady nudges her husband and points at my screen, they exchange glances. I act like I don’t see them or care, but in reality I care a great deal and in some ways I feel a small sense of importance. “maybe this job is cool” I think. Then they turn back to the inflight magazine, sip from their glasses of wine with lids, I continue to model up some kitchen in CAD. I am a designer, I travel on an almost weekly basis to Northern Italy, I fly to one of the Venice airports then on to my meetings with suppliers dotted around Treviso, Friul and Cormons. It sounds like a dream job to most people. Most people think that I wake up around 10am, roll into a pair of freshly pressed chinos, throw a cashmere scarf over my tanned, muscular shoulders and wander out of my home topless. I stride with confidence with a satchel full of pencils, step into my chauffeur driven limo which whisks me 10 minutes to my learjet. The plane takes off, which disturbs my ...