Another blue morning.

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 Airport time today…going to a work meeting for a few days.

It doesn’t feel like it matters much these days.  To and fro.  Driving the car. Flying places.  Packing a few things in a bag.  

Walking down moving walkways past clusters of boarding passengers.  Going to Tampa.  Or LasVegas.  Or Cleveland for gods sake. 

Alone.  Always alone in 2B. Soon I’ll return to where I am now.  I don’t think I’ll be different then.  Perhaps but why? I’ve done this forever.

I recall the optimistic awakening I carried within me for nearly my entire life.  Each day would be a new day.  The smiles of family or companions.  

Literally every day is the same now.  I can't distinguish one from another--each day a cascade of deferring things I might do.  Of not planning anything that excites me.

How strange to be this sad person now.  Well, time to drive down to the airport and wait near my departure gate.  Expecting something more than a plane.

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