The Weary Non-Traveler

I’ve been travelling a lot recently. Many arrivals and many departures.  Departures require a bit more thought and preparation. The return direction doesn’t require much more than throwing everything you’ve brought with you in a suitcase, and if you’ve bought anything, hoping your suitcase will expand just a bit more.

I woke up early this morning to catch a flight connecting in LA to a flight to the East. I finished my packing which had mostly been completed the day before.  I readied my reading materials for the plane.  My meds were packed.  My unfinished business was taken care of.  My house was pulled together enough so that if something awful happened to us and persons needed to enter the house, the first words out of their mouths would not be, “What a slob!”

I ate my usual goes-down-fast- cereal and fruit breakfast then started the dishwasher.  NO dirty dishes were left standing in the sink.  I wiped the table and brushed away some crumbs on the counter.  No dirty clothes were in the hamper. I didn’t bother to sweep the floor.

Then we drove to the airport and parked the car. Shlepped in the large suitcase required for a month’s absence. When you’re not completely sure what you might need, you decide to bring an extra sweater and another pair of shoes just in case.

We worked our way up to the head of the check-in line, only to be told that the flight out of Santa Barbara had been delayed too long for us to catch the next flight out of LA.  I watched my husband start steaming as the UA woman behind the desk pleasantly looked at her computer for another way to accommodate us. She is an expert at this and unflappable.  She has learned not to take the ire of the passenger personally.  And she probably knows it’s a bogus, although mandatory search. Of course, there were no other options.  Since 9/11, if things go wrong,  there are few options left when flying out of regional airports.

After accepting there were no more opportunities to get out today and get to NYC before midnight, we rebooked flights for tomorrow and drove home.

I felt like an empty wastebasket. I had no purpose left for today.  There was nothing I had to do, nor was there anything, in particular, I wanted to do.

Until, I saw my bed.

I laid down.

In the middle of the day, I slept for three hours.

Tomorrow, we’ll try again, this time on an earlier connecting flight out of here.

Travelling is hard work.  Not travelling is even more exhausting.