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