From 36,000 Feet

It’s about 6:15pm, Texas time, and I’m at 36000 ft. This trip almost became routine. No nervousness on the way to the airport, no worries about how much my bag weighed, not a second thought about which seat I was assigned on the plane. Like I said, routine…until now. This flight is a little bumpy, not enough to be disconcerting, just enough to keep me from sleeping, and it’s apparent that the turbulent atmosphere was for a reason. Were I sleeping right now I would miss an absolutely amazing view. Here I am, 23 years old, chasing the sun as it sets, fighting the night at hundreds of miles an hour. Almost routine. Moments like this make me appreciate the many, many blessings that I’ve been granted with little or no return on that investment. Granted, it’s not that uncommon for a person my age to be employed, and not all that unusual that they might travel frequently, but I’m not any “person”. No degree, no trust fund, no attention span, and no problems with that. Despite what the school counselor told us…you can attain a good job with no degree (though common sense and genius helps). Despite what pop-culture says you can lead a great and meaningful life without a 7000 square foot home and deep pockets. Contrary to the theory of my high school humanities teacher, I can manage to be quiet and listen long enough to get the point (Ritalin be damned). Sort of makes me feel guilty for wishing at times that I did have a degree, a trust fund, and some semblance of an attention span. It is my firm belief that things happen for a reason. Sure, we question them, and for good reason I suppose (we are “intelligent” we can’t help but over-analyze everything), but then it all comes together. If I had a degree, a trust fund, and an attention span I’d be flat out dangerous. I’ll be the first to admit it. I’m thinking something along the lines of “youngest President in U.S. history”. Not a bad thing…if you're an American citizen. For now I’ll have to settle with becoming the youngest Governor of Texas (or Lieutenant Governor, I’m no snob). Routine? Yeah right.

A little side note...I didn't actually post this while I was on the plane, but it was written up there.

Insert Willie Nelson lyric here "....."

As the title implies, I am on the road again. Well, soon to be anyway. I'm headed to Virginia, land of coal mines and John Denver songs...or is that West Virginia? Anyway, it's home to the next customer I'm visiting. Another in and out trip, not even enough time to zip up to Washington D.C. and kick it with G Dub. That's what I call him...we're cool like that. I'm getting pretty familiar with the east coast and great lakes states. I'm looking forward to seeing Virginia, evidently this is the time of year to see it. I'm not, however, looking forward to losing an hour of sleep. Time zone changes are always such a beating. I get to the hotel, turn the air conditioner down to -10 degrees, flip open the laptop and turn on the news. I'm running on Texas time, so when it's midnight there, I'm still wide awake. Then the morning comes. When I'm at home I'm up at seven, dressed, and on the road in no time. On the east coast evidently everyone gets started at, oh, six o'clock in the morning. This means I have to be up by four thirty or five Texas time, which in turn means that by three o'clock that afternoon I'm a walking zombie. I can't put together cohesive sentences, can't tie my shoes, drive, or give any sort of worthwhile advice to customers. Oh I fake it, try to sound like I know what I'm doing, but it usually comes out like "Well, uh, I would suggest you...you...YOU...hey you, you're a cool dude, you know it? Man...this guy right here...yeah, this guy...man. C'mere and gimme some sugar." Very embarrassing. I don't normally call someone a "cool dude", and very rarely do I ask any dude for some "sugar", but when I'm deprived of sleep, anything can happen. So yeah, I'm off to Virginia. If you see that I've been thrown in jail for sexual harrassment, call and put in a good word for me.