So far this year, I've been to the city three times. I'm 0-for-3 with the weather. February: snow. March: flooding rains. April: Nor'Easter. I'm supposed to go again next month, and I'm not sure whether to bet on freak early hurricane or tornado. I think tornado is a safer bet.
Originally, I was supposed to fly up on Sunday -- you know, with the built-in time cushion so I can take the Grandmother for a meal. But then my plans changed, and yesterday, I was forced to abandon the plane, and take
Today, I worked all day and took a shuttle flight back. The last 15 minutes or so were really bumpy. As in, "I'm lucky I didn't eat a big lunch" bumpy. I had to put my reading materials away.
Now, I'm just tired. Exhausted, actually. I told my mom that I think that the proof that humans aren't supposed to travel so far so fast is that we're always so tired when we do it, even if we spend the entire trip sleeping. I like to go places, see new things, yadda yadda yadda -- but the getting there kills me. Biologically, I think that means that we're only supposed to go as fast as our legs -- or maybe an animal? -- can carry us.
Still, even with all the hassles, travel can be amusing. Actually, no. It's the other people around that can be amusing -- when they're not annoying. And they continue to say the funniest things. Yesterday, for example, in Union Station, some gentleman waiting with a woman behind me on line said, "Be careful. It (probably New York, but maybe Boston) ain't Iowa. Heck, it ain't even D.C."
Brother, you have no idea. Still, it's good to be home, even if it is just a brief respite before having to head down to Florida this weekend.