Yesterday was my flying day. Flying often puts me in a bad mood. My inner Socialist raises its angry fist. I absolutely hate the idea of people of privilege being able to pay extra for first-class seats and gold-star service. Don’t misunderstand me; I personally know how utterly Communism failed and have seen and experienced the results of that seriously-flawed system on people I love. But the idea that certain people are better than others, and that bribery affords preferential treatment . . . I just can’t go along with that. I wish the entrance doors to the airplane opened directly into the economy class section. Then "we" wouldn’t have to look at the pampered ones with the big seats and abundant legroom, and "they" wouldn’t have to be disturbed by seeing the riff-raff pass by.
My 70-mile drive in the rental car to the Charlotte airport took 70 minutes yesterday morning on smooth, pleasant highways. Yes, it was at the crack of dawn, but we’ve never encountered any congestion on this route, even at rush hour. In contrast, our drive from the San Francisco airport to our home is about 25 miles and it took us 1 hour and 45 minutes. Yes, the traffic was unusually heavy, but it reminded Steve and I of one more reason to be excited about our upcoming move.
Tomorrow, Phase 3: Packing begins. Today, my husband is off work and we are both resting from our labors. Steve made me banana pancakes for breakfast and we’re about to take a hike and see a movie. We have been apart for 12 days (the longest in our eight-year marriage) and it’s so good to be together again.