I’m on a plane. A very small plane. The kind you have to walk across the runway to. The kind that holds fewer passengers than the city bus. The kind that could be mistaken for a mosquito or other small bug. They just told us that we’re going to be held on the runway for at least 35 minutes. Hooray.
The guy sitting next to me just told me that he does not like computers and he has never used one. I told him that this is actually my phone (yes, I’m blogging from my phone) and he said that phones are for calling people, and what I have is a computer. He is giving me a confused, disapproving glare as I type this.
I also forgot to mention, when describing the plane, that when the flight attendant was giving us the safety speech, the intercom kept cutting out and the lights are flickering. This does not fill me with confidence. Why, oh why did I have to watch “Lost” so much? I half expect to see duct tape on the wings and hear someone turning a crank at the front of the plane to start it up.
The reason I am on the plane in the first place, is that I am off to New York! Rehearsals for “A Quiet Place” start tomorrow morning. I just said goodbye to my family, but I’m trying not to think about that. I don’t want mister 19th century over here to see me crying. I wish he’d brought a book or something. I don’t think he is enjoying my blog.
I’m going to go review my score for the zillionth time in preparation for tomorrow, but if anyone at the control tower is reading this, my seatmate only has 30 minutes to make his connection to Bangor, so if you could get us in the air, that would be great. Thanks.