What the hell am I doing here, sitting on another plane, another runway? I never travel this much – three different trips in less than a month. This new one is again for work, a trip that I usually look forward to, that I wanted to use again to reconnect with my old friend. But I’m not, and even if I were, it wouldn’t matter. All I want is to be home.
But home is complicated right now. So many different moving pieces, so many transitions. At least (no, not at least, more like thank God for this right now), I’m having a blast. Seriously. So much is up in the air, so many pressures and deadlines bearing down, and yet I feel like I’m floating happily from one to the next.
Kind of like four years ago, when I defended my dissertation, added a whole new chapter, and then separated permanently from my now ex-husband, all in a little over a week. I floated then too, under immense pressure and, I admit, breaking down in tears every once in a while. But still overall happy.
Because I knew I was doing the right things then, what needed to happen. And I feel the same now. What is happening is what needs to happen, what I need to do.
So I’ll just take this plane to where I need to go. And be happy to come home.