1 week ago
Monday, June 25, 2012
Today is a rally cap sort of day. I left my precious girls to head to the airport and back to East Coast life around 4 a.m. this morning. I patiently waited for the Starbucks barista to pull back the covers on the register and flip on the lights as the clock struck 5. I greedily ordered a venti iced coffee which I would surely savor until I realized that I could not get through security with more than 3 oz and excuse me if this wasn't at last 4 (ahem, times 10). I drank down the whole thing as quickly as my frozen brain could stand it, and then handed over my shoes, possessions and dignity in the name of safety (or is it fear, it's so hard to tell). It was soon time to board, and I found a seat right up front... so handy. But as the doors were just about to close a larger, older women dressed head-to-toe in purple boarded via wheelchair and chose the seat next to mine, and a little of mine too actually. Had it not been 5 a.m., or had I not been heading back from a fantastic vacation, or perhaps quite simply if I were a better human being on this fine day, I might have made small talk. But in my defense, I did not flinch nor grimace when she repeatedly buckled and unbuckled herself requiring that she dig vigorously at my own outer thigh to find the darn buckle. And in her defense, love wins, even when you kind of cuddle your grumpy neighbor the entire flight... but actually, I was cold so I didn't complain too much about the cuddling. I got to Baltimore as the sun was coming up, or a little after. Then I worked, and that's all I have to say about that. But now I'm home, to the suite life, sans children. On the nights when they are here and loud and messy and needy, I dream about a quite night alone. And now it's here and I need my damn rally cap to get me back on track, to keep me from eating two or three bags of popcorn, or crying, or feeling defeated for not having enjoyed a night o' quiet. So I shall rally to a long shower, a good book, and a night of sleep during which I will surely wake becaues of a the noises I hear and the ones I do not.