Saturday, August 25, 2012
I sat and waited. And then waited some more. They let the passengers into the plane late, then told us that we could only take off in an hour. They wouldn't let me go outside, and I was slowly losing my mind in the confined space.
I hate travelling for work and being alone to manage my fears. The captain's announcements raised false hopes each time. One hour. And yet another. Now it's 30 more minutes. I started to fidget and blamed my job for this trip and the bind I was in.
This is my nth flight in the past weeks, and I texted hubby that I wanted to quit. He repeated what he typically says. Everything will turn out well. That I've managed through worse. And in two days I'll be back home. He provides clarity beyond my emotions, and I tried to believe him.
And he was right. The plane started to roll down the runway, and my business trip officially started. I managed to doze off as I counted down the days and hours to when I'd be back home.