On the road again
[Written September 3rd; typed up on September 7th.]
On the airport now. Going somewhere, obviously. Again. After all, it's only two weeks and two days since I came home from Dublin, and that trip was preceded by travelling to Dublin from Carraroe only a couple of days before.
I'm getting more than a little tired of all the practical things you have to take care of on a trip - the almost nerve-wracking, ever-present feeling that you have to be at the right place, at the right time, bringing the right things, Or Else. But at the same time, even while annoyed and stressed and nervous, there is no doubt in my mind that I love this.
What I've enjoyed most of all so far today has been to observe the people around me. Like the two perky, blonde, perfectly groomed air hostesses on the bus out to the airport - where were they going? Do they enjoy the job? Were they picked for the job because of their looks, to make it seem like they're all cast from the same mold?
Then in the airport bookstore, I had just lined up to pay when one of the people working there opens another cash register, and when he asks the next person in the line - me - to approach, a woman rushes up from behind me and up to the counter to pay. Usually I wouldn't have given this a second thought beyond a quickly-fading twinge of annoyance; this time the incident actually ended up lifting my mood, since the man behind the cash register rolled his eyes, smiled at me and commented on the rudeness of some people.
He wished me a good trip when I left; I thanked him and almost said 'and the same to you' - interestingly, I apparently have this response down automatic enough that I almost didn't remember that he presumably wouldn't be going anywhere.
...And now just as I was writing this, they announced that there will be a delay of fifteen minutes on the flight to Stavanger, which spells potential disaster since I have only half an hour scheduled in Stavanger before my plane leaves for Aberdeen. And of course, if I miss my flight to Aberdeen, I will be late for the conference I'm attending, and I might even be late for my own paper, which would be obviously Not Good.
I really do hate all this practical hassle of travelling.
On the airport now. Going somewhere, obviously. Again. After all, it's only two weeks and two days since I came home from Dublin, and that trip was preceded by travelling to Dublin from Carraroe only a couple of days before.
I'm getting more than a little tired of all the practical things you have to take care of on a trip - the almost nerve-wracking, ever-present feeling that you have to be at the right place, at the right time, bringing the right things, Or Else. But at the same time, even while annoyed and stressed and nervous, there is no doubt in my mind that I love this.
What I've enjoyed most of all so far today has been to observe the people around me. Like the two perky, blonde, perfectly groomed air hostesses on the bus out to the airport - where were they going? Do they enjoy the job? Were they picked for the job because of their looks, to make it seem like they're all cast from the same mold?
Then in the airport bookstore, I had just lined up to pay when one of the people working there opens another cash register, and when he asks the next person in the line - me - to approach, a woman rushes up from behind me and up to the counter to pay. Usually I wouldn't have given this a second thought beyond a quickly-fading twinge of annoyance; this time the incident actually ended up lifting my mood, since the man behind the cash register rolled his eyes, smiled at me and commented on the rudeness of some people.
He wished me a good trip when I left; I thanked him and almost said 'and the same to you' - interestingly, I apparently have this response down automatic enough that I almost didn't remember that he presumably wouldn't be going anywhere.
...And now just as I was writing this, they announced that there will be a delay of fifteen minutes on the flight to Stavanger, which spells potential disaster since I have only half an hour scheduled in Stavanger before my plane leaves for Aberdeen. And of course, if I miss my flight to Aberdeen, I will be late for the conference I'm attending, and I might even be late for my own paper, which would be obviously Not Good.
I really do hate all this practical hassle of travelling.