I’d first like to say that this blog is coming to you live from the flap of an air sickness bag I’m writing as I eagerly await our arrival into Sunny (well, now moonly) San Diego. I’m also trying to distract myself from the lady sitting next to me who is as my mother would say, “Chewing her gum like a cow.”
I never realized until this very moment that loud gum chewers are a pet peeve of mine. I have this urge to shove my hand into her mouth and steal the gum from her very snapping teeth. Some may call it an anger management issue, I blame it on the migraine I’m suffering from.
However, as a disclaimer, I do have to admit, that on occasion, I have myself chewed, snapped, made loud obscene noises with my gum. I’m not proud of it, but we can’t all be perfect. (I apologize to anyone out there that too defines this as an annoying habit)
So, my business trip is off to a fabulous start, scratch that: a great start, no: a pretty okay start…well, off to a start. My taxi arrived 45 minutes early…and I was worried it would pull a no show. It’s amazing that I was even packed by then. I was just sitting down to rewatch the Tina Fey/Amy Pohler SNL skit and I hear a honk outside my window. Low and behold, down below is a Saudi Arabian man and his bright yellow taxi.
As I scramble to gather my four carryons (yes four…and I made it all the way onto the plane, thank you very much) I realize, I have no idea what I’ve brought, or forgotten. I never got to perform my last minute supply check. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.
I do at least know I have all 200 of my interest cards for the schools. They set off the X-Rays during my security check. There’s nothing like having someone flip through those puppies looking for some sort of electronic activation button.
Nope, just little green cards and a slim rubber band. I wanted to ask them if they (or anyone they knew would) be interested in studying abroad and willing to fill one out. I have a goal to get them all completed this week…why not use every moment to promote?
Anyways, the Taxi man greets me and lets me know that he has picked up someone from this very house many, many times. I smile, in my head thinking “45 minutes early…don’t expect to be coming back to this house for a very, very long time.”
I wonder, if you add all the waiting periods in our lives…at the bank, in the grocery store line, ordering a sandwich from Subway…how much time we really would have wasted? I’d assume a good two-thirds of our lives are spent waiting for something.
Oh man, we are quickly approaching
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