Here I am again at the ABQ Sunport Airport, or whatever it’s called. I don’t know if I actually spend a lot of time here, or if it just feels that way, but I am beginning to feel like a regular. In fact, earlier, the wireless didn’t seem to be working, so I picked up the courtesy phone and told someone and the guy said, “OK, let me reboot it and then try.” Now that’s service.
My flight, of course, is late, because I’m flying to DC through Dallas where, apparently, huge thunder storms are causing everything to run late. After my Phoenix fiasco, I booked a pretty longish layover, so hopefully I will be fine. As it is, I won’t be at my hotel until 9 pm at the earliest, and at a meeting at 9 am tomorrow, so, basically my 48 hours are looking like this: flight, delay, wait, airport, flight, delay, meeting, meeting, meeting, flight, delay, flight delay. Or something like that. It’s sort of more crowded and chaotic than usual here at the airport—usually Albuquerque is weirdly quiet, as if it’s just a movie-set airport and not an actual airport. Airports are so freaky. I feel like a different person when I’m in airport. For example, in real life I never think too much about what people are wearing or what they weigh. In airports, I find myself obsessed, thinking: Why is everyone so fat and badly dressed? I guess I’m a bitch in the airport. A superficial bitch. But I don’t think like that any other time, so maybe it evens out and I’m just like everyone else. Or maybe airports attracts such a preponderance of overweight badly dressed people, that I’d have to be blind to not notice. Or maybe…
I suppose there’s no point in wearing down my battery blathering on about the 7,000 pounds of human flesh in polyster that surrounds me. Instead, I bid you good travels. Or, rather, I bid that to myself.
Also—did not get enough sleep last night.
Until DC—