tales from an ordinary world

2002-02-13

Everything I do today is just killing time until I go to the airport. She just assumed I wasn't coming. I just assumed I was. How could I pass up an opportunity to go to the airport ? A building full of emotions, perhaps even moreso than a hospital...but how do you measure it ? Not just that, but the sense of possibility, the thought that "hey, I could be going somewhere...I should be going somewhere." Or the anticipation and the mild sense of panic that you'll somehow miss your flight even though you're here far too early.

The grimy observation deck gets harder to find every time you're there, as if they're embarrassed by it, or they'd rather you spent more time shopping. Last time I went, they'd put a wire fence between me and the view, but they can't stop the wonderful (in moderation, of course) background smell of aircraft fuel.

Actually being on the aircraft is the most boring part of it.