You Can't Get There From Here

Tuesday morning I watched the sun rise over the Atlantic as a submarine steamed into the harbor of Newport News, flanked by escort boats. I stopped in Dallas, had breakfast with my parents, and went to work in Los Angeles.

Yesterday I left LA at lunchtime, got grounded by thunderstorms in Dallas, got close to Norfolk at 2:30 AM, found Norfolk closed, diverted to Raleigh-Durham, landed at 3:30, slept two hours on the floor, and now am watching the crews try to restore power to the part of the terminal where our plane sits. (My bag is checked, or renting a car to Norfolk would be done.). I don’t think we’re going to make our 8:30 departure.

Now we get to the funny part.

On the way out, I sent seven emails and read one book and one proposal.

Since leaving Burbank airport, I’ve sent 45 emails, written one proposal, made 8 calls (not including the ones to Merrystar), and scheduled 5 meetings. And now, written one blog post. I also learned how to check the weather radar on both my phone and blackberry.

Oh, wait. There was supposed to be a funny part. Nevermind.