Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Stopping to smelling the roses even when they smell like jet fuel

By the time you read this, I'll be making my way to Santa Fe for Left Coast Crime. Early morning rush to the airport through major highway construction, layover in Dallas, taxi into Albuquerque, take some kind of transportation up to Santa Fe. Whew, I hate even thinking about it.

Because I'm a destination person. I have my eye on the prize at the end of the day - meeting up with old friends, settling in, a great meal. My husband is going along. He's a journey guy. He doesn't let glitches bother him. He takes them in stride, considers them part of the plan. Me? I grumble and complain. Or, rather, I used to.

Something happened along the way as I age. It helps that I have my laptop along. And my Kindle. Toys. I'm really, really trying to enjoy the moment, even if it spins out of my control. I promised myself, whatever happens today, however long it takes to arrive, it's okay.

What about you? Destination? Or journey?
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