What follows is a collection of thoughts I captured as I traveled. There's no intentional or crafted flow to it but I think it works well enough without me meddling too much.
There was no one in the row with me, nor in the rows in front of or behind me. No one in the rows caddy corner in front or behind. Just one guy in the row to my right, pressed against the wall of the plane. I prefer the aisle seat myself, even if the plane is mostly empty.
Sweet heavens, I love the crazy, we're gonna fly apart at any second feeling of lift-off! Then that moment when it feels like the plane has stepped free of the land and we are somehow magically airborne. I know it's physics and aerodynamics and science-y stuff that holds airplanes aloft, not really magic at all. But for those of us who are normally Earth-bound creatures, flight is either a wretched horror or an absolute delight.
I'm reading Neil Gaiman's American Gods on the flight and what do you know? Within the first bit (it's an ebook, I can never quite tell how far in I am and the end ALWAYS comes as a complete surprise - Like, what? It's over?), the main character takes a cab to the airport and boards a flight. I am on my flight as I'm writing this but I'll have to take a cab ride at the end. I'm forty blessed years young and I'll be taking my first cab ride this evening. So bizarre. But it sounded as easy in the book as everyone keeps telling me it is. Of course, by the time I publish this, the ride will be done, which strikes me as kind of odd, you know, in a weird time-paradox sort of way.
I just watched a girl a couple seats ahead put on THREE coats. I forgot my gloves. I'm so screwed. [Correction: I was NOT screwed - it wasn't cold at all and my fleece plus overcoat did fine.]
I would say that I don't know why the taxi cab portion of this trip was freaking me out so much but I do. You know how time slows waaaaay down when you're enduring something boring or painful or just plain obnoxious. It's kind of like that except, for me, the smallest tasks turn into Herculean feats.
In addition to my gloves and crochet, I also forgot to pack a regular brush. I have a round one, for blow-drying my hair, but not a plain ol' brush-brush hair brush.
Also missing: My business agenda for the two days of this trip including the address of the sites I need to get to. Just an electronic blip - I missed a weekly phone call where it was discussed in greater detail. No biggie at all, I got the critical information after I reached out to our group, but there will be an activity this morning that I'll be winging. Luckily, ad-libbing about myself and my interests is totally in my wheelhouse.
Thought for the closing leg of my trip: We have gotten too safe. As a culture, as a family, as a collection of cells dreaming of life as a person for a short while. It has been way too long (why do I feel like I'm confessing a sin?) since I stepped outside my comfort zone, since I really stretched my wings, since I really tested just exactly how high I might be able to fly. Even at this point in my journey when I'm so exhausted that I had to restrain myself from rubbing the head of the young man in the seat in front of me on the flight home (his hair is cropped short but still so thick I can't see scalp and I'm fascinated with the wonder of what it feels like), I am considering where I might go next. Well, I could confess that I do already know when my next scheduled business trip is going to happen. But I want to figure out a time to introduce my boys to some new adventures.
I'm glad I went on this trip - it was one of the first times I felt like I had a career rather than a job. It was stressful and invigorating, eye-opening and soul-satisfying. When do we go again???