I should be on plane heading to the US
right now.
Of course, I'm not, and I guess I've
made my peace with that. I mean, I'm disappointed we didn't get to
go to Germany like we planned, but as I've said many times during the
past two months, if that's the least of my worries during this whole
crisis then I may be one of the luckiest people on Earth.
And, thankfully, I am.
However, that didn't stop me from...I
don't know if “mourning” is the right word here, but it didn't
stop me from mourning this morning the fact that I should be on a
plane right now. I know most people loathe flying, especially on
something like an 8-hour flight, but not me. I love it. Yes, it's
inconvenient and yes, I've had to overcoming the urge to throttle
people sitting in front of me who just love to recline their seats
into my bony knees, but I really do like flying. I like the rituals
that go along with it, I like the gentle swaying of the plane as it
takes off and lands, and I love—just love—staring out the window
for hours on end, watching the world go by.
Yes, I'm a freak. What's your point?
But I didn't get to do that today, and
as we've discussed in here several times the past few weeks, I don't
know when I'll be able to do it again. That's okay; I understand and
accept the reasons why perfectly. I'm not complaining. I am,
however, looking forward to the time—whenever that may be—that I
get to do it again.
Let's just hope that it's, say,
sometime this decade.
Now if you'll excuse me, in memory of
not being on a plane I'm gonna go eat a bowl of German cereal and
wash it down with a cup of German tea (green tea with vanilla, if
you're curious), and then eat the last piece of Lindt dark chocolate
with pink grapefruit in my possession. Since they don't make it any
more, I think it's only fitting to eat the final piece I have on a
day like today.
No comments:
Post a Comment