I love to fly

I'll say it again. I love to fly. Love to board a metal cylinder with wings in one city and exit that same cylinder in another. When you go wheels-up and you see the ground drop away and give way to rolling hills, rivers, suburban communities and farms. When I'm in a big airport, I love to look at the arrival and departure boards to see where people are headed and where they've come from. As I type this, exciting locations like Rome, Frankfurt and Paris mix in with Williamsport, Salisbury and Elmira. Not to say that those latter three cities aren't exciting in themselves, but they don't offer that "international excitement." We can now fly anywhere around the globe in 24 hours or less.

I don't like waiting on the ground. As I type this, I am stuck in the airport in Philly and by the time I leave here (Lord-willing) at 10:45 tonight, I will have spent seven hours in this airport. That part is no fun, but it's somewhat consoling that I'm still on the clock and that I've basically worked two days in one.

But man, I do love to fly. And when I leave the company (my close friends will note I said when, not if), I will miss this perk. But I'll be thankful to God for the opportunity that I've had for the time I've had it. And I'll be avidly planning my next trip.