The Longest Day
I have to write this while I’m still angry. I’ve just spent 10 hours in line, on my feet, at the airport. And I’m back where started. I’m in my apartment on the East Coast, 2000 miles from where I want to be. It’s the only holiday I care about; it’s the only one I go home for. Home for Christmas and a U2 show once every 4 years are really the only unchangeable reasons why I take off work. I don’t ask too much. But I felt so rained on today.
I know it’s not the airline’s problem if a snowstorm creeps up, but I’m perpetually perplexed by how some parts of the country react to a foot or two of snow. Where I come from, they just pull out the plow. They never shut down. As an ex-grade schooler in such a town, I remember stomping through 2 feet of snow because the plows had done their work on the streets and everyone just buttoned up and went out.
I hate the Midwest. First they re-elect a jackass to the White House and then they hold the whole country in a vise because of their stupid snowstorm. One of the few funny things today was a shirt a guy had on with George Sr. and George Jr. on it that said “Dumb and Dumber”. Awesome.
Another good thing in all this crap was listening to “Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own” at the airport. Some people listen to happy things when they’re unhappy. I’m the opposite. I don’t want to be distracted or drugged out of what I’m feeling. I want someone to understand even if it’s a disembodied voice ringing out of an iPod’s earphones. Hearing something so disastrous like “Sometimes…” suddenly makes my discomfort a little easier to live with. I listen to Ash or someone when I’m happy.
I hope I get off the ground tomorrow. Otherwise, it’s me and my apartment for Christmas. I don’t think I’m being unreasonable. I don’t ask much. I just want to get home for Christmas and not feel like I wasted vacation days taking those days off work. You go without and go without until you teach yourself to not care because caring’s too hard. Eventually, you feel nothing. I have the reasoning out of a tight spot down; I still want to be able to feel something.

