I've Got Georgia on My Mind...

Two and a half hours! There are two and a half hours left!!!

I think I'm going to lose my mind!

I usually don't mind sitting in a plane... But it's really getting to me this time and I think I'm going to go bonkers...

Maybe it's the quiet... Maybe it's the nonstop air conditioning... Maybe it's the smells of over a hundred people all squished into unbelievably small quarters for over two hours already... Maybe I'm just tired...

If there were daylight then I might amuse myself by staring out the window and analyzing the land patterns, imagining up the ways God caused the lines and swirls and deep holes in the earth. But it's dark outside. It's dark and I'm pretty sure that we're somewhere between Dallas and Guadalupe... Somewhere in the middle of the empty desert... Where there a no lights to look at... In fact... There's no nothing to look at...

So I spent a while doodling. I spent a while erasing what I had doodled. I spent a while staring at the paper. I spent a while intermittently poking my husband in between doodling and erasing... I wrote one stanza and a chorus of a love song. I shared said song with the poked husband. He didn't get it. I explained it. He got it. I guess it wasn't as clear as I thought it was. Perhaps it's just because he's a man and I'm a girl and we speak different dialects of everything. I thought it made sense...

My eyes are getting dry now from nonstop air conditioning. Maybe I should close them and go to sleep. But I have to use the bathroom. No, no- the "bathroom". I have no need for the "lavatory". That's just disgusting. But I'm 34,000 feet up in the dark, desert, deserted, night sky, and all we have are "lavatories". Ew. I'll wait. I haven't had any children yet, so I still have full control over my bladder.

The napkin tucked in the pocket of the next seat over is quite distracting. It is shuddering in the afore mentioned nonstop air conditioning, something like cold, wet, puppy dog... Except its dry...

My neck is starting to ache from pouring over my useless and unsuccessful distractions.

My seat can't lean back as it is supposed to. Or maybe it can, but it isn't, because of the length of the very long legged man behind my seat. Maybe his legs are just too long. I hope it didn't squish him in my attempts to take his space as my own...

I sigh.

I adjust myself in the seat that is putting my seat to sleep.

I'm actually enjoying writing. I'm actually enjoying myself now. I do believe I have coerced myself into a content enough attitude to annoy my intermittently poked husband by making his arm fall asleep by way of falling asleep on his arm...

I sigh again.