Yesterday, I spent yet another day of my life hanging out in airports and being squashed in airplanes. Given the amount of traveling I have been doing, I have established a bit of a routine. The day begins way too early for any sane person. The trip to the airport is always a bleary-eyed affair.
Let me just take a moment to say how lucky I am to be based in Portland. Our airport is close to town, easy to navigate,our security folks are good humored and efficient and we have free-wifi. I cannot say the same for some of the other airports I frequent like Logan or LaGuardia. Anyway, I digress.
Once we make it through security, I beeline to fill my water bottle before embarking on my favorite errand of the morning. Specifically, acquiring an iced coffee (why are airports always so hot?) and day-old muffin from Coffee People. Yes, I know Coffee People are no longer owned by Jim and Patty and admittedly, their coffee isn’t as good as it used to be. But there are certain rituals that are sacred and are not to be messed with.
Once I have my coffee, I generally sit at the gate and fidget until it is time to board. On the rare occasions that I get to leave Portland at a civilized hour, I can usually use that time more productively. But there is only so much one can expect of me at 5:30am.
Once settled on the plane, I generally doze until we are in the air. It takes time for the caffeine to hit my system and I may as well use that time to catch up on my sleep. Once I am feeling adequately conscious I read, knit or write. Sometimes I read and knit, but that is only if I am working on a good audio book.
Direct flight from Portland to the east coast are rare, so there is the inevitable stopover somewhere. That stop has its own rituals too. I head off to my departing gate and try to find 2 outlets to charge whatever devices I have with me on that particular day. Then I wait. And fidget. And pretend to read. Maybe I knit. You may be noticing here that I have no idea what to do with myself at airports. They are rarely comfortable places to work, nap or even read. Not that the plane is any better. But somehow I am more resigned to being trapped in an uncomfortable seat when I am 35,000 feet in the air.
As we draw close to our destination, my focus switches almost entirely to where we are going once on the ground. In this particular case we were flying into New York which always gets me really excited. There are two little girls who live in New York who can make me forget about any discomfort I experience en route to see them. In fact, they have a super power that pretty much makes anything a-ok. Which makes me wonder why I am writing this instead of playing with them?