After three days chained to the desk at home listening to a far flung educator, and getting far too used to wandering into the kitchen to make coffee and raid the fridge, I’ll be heading back to the office tomorrow. It’s going to feel strange.
Two days to prepare, then I’m living in a hotel again next week - all week this time. I have to transmogrify myself from pupil to teacher over the weekend, and try to appear vaguely knowledgeable by the time I appear on-site on Monday morning.
I go through this paranoia every time I am scheduled to appear in front of professional clients. I imagine they will be far more knowledgeable than they could ever sensibly be, and that I will somehow be exposed as the fraud that I’m not.
A week in a hotel. A small hotel. To be honest, as long as there is somewhere to eat nearby, and a good internet connection, I don’t really care.