I just returned from two almost back-to-back trips. The first one took me to Dublin, Ireland, where I ran and completed a 26.2-mile marathon as a fund-raiser for the Arthritis Foundation. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, even harder than leaving a $90,000 job three years ago to start my own business. (In both cases, I proved without a doubt how nuts I am.)

In Ireland, I was so befuddled by all the numbers on the prepaid calling cards, I ended up bringing home about $30 worth of unused cards -- denominated in punts and utterly useless here -- simply because I couldn't figure out how to use them. The upshot: I talked to my office a lot less than I thought I would. They managed, and I drowned my frustration at the local pub.

The second trip, a few days later, took me to Ohio, where I visited my college sophomore son. I drove. It's a little over 720 miles, and it took about 12 hours each way. No matter how fast I go, it always takes 12 hours. By the time I got home, a few pounds heavier from the junk food I needed to eat on such a trek, I was hallucinating.

Both of these trips were planned for, but that doesn't mean I didn't take my work tools with me. For the Ohio trip, I took my laptop, pager, and cell phone, so my staff could constantly be in touch with me -- and I could be in touch with them. How foolish of me to think that. The cell phone I own is digital. It's a technological marvel to look at. There's only one thing wrong with it: It doesn't work. It's not the phone. It's the system it's on. Seven out of 10 calls I make are either cut off or indecipherable. But, hey, I pay a flat rate every month!

In the hotel room, I set up my laptop and, just like the hotel services guide instructed, plugged my modem connection into the desk lamp. That, too, proved challenging. My screen started to distort as soon as I made the connection. I didn't know what it was; it just didn't look healthy.

On my next attempt, I succeeded in getting through to my office E-mail. But for some reason, I froze in the middle of the operation. For these two episodes, I was charged about $12 in long-distance fees by the hotel. On checkout, I complained that I was being unfairly charged for two feeble attempts at progress. The hotel adjusted the charges -- if only to shut me up. What is it with hotels and long-distance fees anyway? Finally, I tried to access a database on my laptop, but I had forgotten my password. An hour later, it was time to go shopping with my son. The laptop went back into my bag, and it was forgotten for the rest of the trip.

I have learned that any attempt to emulate being in the office from afar is futile. In both cases, Ireland and Ohio, it was incredibly hard to conduct business or even focus on business. Staying connected while on the road looks so easy in the TV commercials. Believe me, it's not. Maybe I don't travel enough. Maybe as I do this more, I'll get better at it. I don't know. The amount of work that goes into preparing to take a leave from the office is staggering. And when you come back, the amount of work it takes to resolve whatever blew up is equally staggering.

I have a plan. My wife bought $9 worth of lottery tickets at a Pennsylvania gas station during our drive back from Ohio. The prize amount was an unimaginable $56 million. If we hit the big one, I'll be able to go away forever.

George Giokas is the president and CEO of StaffWriters Plus, a specialty agency that places writers in temporary and permanent positions with corporate and other employers. It also provides editorial consulting work. His database includes 2,500 writers and editors specializing in more than 60 categories. His Web site is located at www.staffwriters.com, and you can E-mail him at george@staffwriters.com.