I wanted to write. I really did!
I needed to walk the dog. It was a glorious morning and the two of us could use some bonding.
Then the time slipped away and I still needed to work for my day job which meant traveling away from warm sunny temperatures. I wasn’t worried.
I should have time to write while I wait for my flight.
The gate attendants kept making pesky announcements regarding weather delays, which had the worst way of breaking my concentration.
The incoming plane is delayed. The incoming plane has been sent back to its original gate. We found a new plane, but we’ll need a new crew. We need to file paperwork. We need to de-ice the plane. They need to clear the runway. We’ll be underway in just a moment…any moment…
That moment became hours as we waited on the runway. Use of electronics during this down time was strictly prohibited.
I still might be able to write while we fly.
My seat mate was one of those people who don’t pick up on social cues. (I seriously need to meet with the various airlines about my “I’m feeling social / Do not disturb” patent pending travel bracelets).
Which actually was much more tolerable than the sound of the jet engine next to my ear, or the smell from the overworked restroom, but still less conducive to writing.
I can always write when I reach my hotel.
After circled our destination five times, the pills I’d taken for the resulting massive headache hadn’t yet worked their magic. Looking at the blank screen was painful.
And I was hungry, tired, and grumpy to boot and knew I had to wake early for a morning appointment. I looked at the bed.
I wanted to curl up under the covers and sleep.
My flight might have been cancelled were it not for the appearance of the new crew. They just happened to be on the flight as passengers but volunteered for an extra night’s work so that the rest of us sorry individuals huddled together might still reach our destination. Or we might not have gotten airborne had it not been for the ground crew working in freezing temperatures and horizontally blowing snow in order to grant us a clear path and ice-less wings. I may not have reached my hotel were it not for traffic control, squeezing us into an unplanned slot, or gotten to my hotel without my shuttle driver braving frozen roads. They did their jobs, because they had to, even though it wasn’t comfortable or convenient.
And I knew the following day would be just as hectic, just as I knew I didn’t start down this writing journey for lack of a hobby.
I ran out of excuses.
I needed to write.
So I did.