There are twenty-five incomplete blog posts in my drafts folder. I posted more often before I started making plans.
It’s pitch black outside my plane. I’m on my way back from a week home. I scarfed down McDonald’s before my final plane left Chicago: I’m regretting the drink. My favorite seat is by the window; I hate having to get up.
While home, I almost had a conversation with someone who assumed I agreed with their dislike of Fort Wayne since I choose to move away. If this becomes a normal thing for me to experience, I’m going to have to get a sign: Don’t bitch to me.
Can a grocery store not survive downtown? There isn’t one. I would think with West Central there would be a market for a small niche place. Plenty of hungry hipsters that love riding their bikes around there.
Granted, after reading Nicolette Hahn Niman’s article Avoiding Factory Farms, I suppose there are farmers’ markets during the warmer months. Regardless, a normal grocery would be nice.
I wish I was more interested in cooking. It comes in spurts. With long breaks in between.
My favorite part of night flights: seeing the civilization below. (Of course, this intensely conflicts with my dislike of light pollution.)
If we’re thirty minutes out from landing, what city are we above that has such a concentration of lights? According to the route maps in the airline magazine, could be a place in Canada. Not that the map is likely to be accurate.
I’m not 100% thrilled about lugging two suitcases home via public transit. Mostly because it’s going to be dark while I’m dealing with this. It’s somewhat relieving that I’ve done this route before.
My new carry-on rules! I feel like such a pro pushing my four-wheeled bag. (It’s also going to make life so much easier dealing with that AND my checked bag.)
I’m curious if I were to actually use 750words.com, if my writing on my blog would improve. Or maybe I would just run out of things to say. (Okay, not likely. I talk too much for that.)
The new year is coming up next weekend. I don’t like resolutions; I’m excited about it being a holiday to celebrate. Are midnight movies normal? It doesn’t actually have to begin at midnight, I’d just like to be in the theater as it switches over.
Alrighty. Time to return to where the sun sets at 4 PM. Good night sun. (Ode to a book that I didn’t actually read as a child.)
This has got to be the most condensed and concise writing I’ve ever read by you.
@Andrea:
1. Yes, post more.
2. I can’t believe you didn’t read Goodnight Moon as a child.
3. It’s interesting to read your stream of consciousness. Two sentences to one subject and moving on!
@Ed:
1. I will try!
2. When I was younger, I thought Goodnight Moon was the same book as the story about the bear in the overalls with one strap that’s broken. I loved that book! Ah, thank you Amazon: ‘Corduroy’ was the name of it.
3. That post was certainly a rarity. I enjoyed it.