I love to travel and often take flights because they are a quick and easy way to flit across the country and back again.
Living over two hours from the airport, my days always begin early as I prefer morning air travel.
Leaving home at 3am has transformed into a habit, the justification being that I can reach a destination on the east coast by early afternoon and thus enjoy several hours of exploration before bedtime.
If I am really tired, I can catch some moments of rest on the plane or I can catch up on projects as we soar through the air or I can read and people watch.
All four of these are pleasurable and rewarding.
I have never been on a "Macadamia Nut" flight so I have missed out on tirades and angry outbursts but I have observed disgruntled passengers who moan about the bathrooms or irritated spouses who bicker over who is in charge of the sweet baby and her dirty, stinking diapers.
I've listened to loud, drunken yammering as well as whispered love messages.
I have been forced to hear cell phone chatter that would be best saved for privacy and I am always thankful when the announcement comes to power these transmitters off.
Actually few disturbances interrupt my joyful flights but there are a couple bugging me at this time.
The first is screaming children.
I do not refer to sleepy little buggers who are suffering from earaches or stomach pains, but rather traveling monsters.
I have already witnessed these brats as we awaited the call for boarding.
They are whining at Mom, throwing tantrums with Dad, and demanding attention from every angle.
No placating can solve the dilemma, whether this is sugary snacks or promises of glorious adventures ahead.
While the folks look weary, fellow passengers are becoming wary wondering who amongst us will receive the seat next to this brooding mob.
Another flight, another day, another seat are all ideas set into motion in whirling brains as the tenor of howls and tremor of stamping feet increases.
I have never been forced to sit right next to aforementioned children but I have been in close proximity with kids kicking my seat, spilling drinks that seep onto my floor items, or have had my ears ache from on-going screeches and cries.
While these may ebb and flow, especially during a lengthy voyage, they always return with gale force just as I am about to doze off or when my hurting mind has finally relaxed only to be ramped up again.
Fortunately, landing eventually arrives and I can part from the turmoil forever, unless, of course, the family boards my connecting flight.
Today a new irritant pitched into my reverie.
I have read about seatbacks launched into faces but have never had this happen to me.
I have always thought there was ample room for me and my laptop and a traveler in the seat in front of me.
Moments ago, as I prepared to work, my laptop was jammed into semi-open position as the seatback rammed into it and then into me.
I now must type with elbows squeezed in, fingertips cramped, and I must peak down and around to view the screen.
On the one hand, I can still work.
But on the other, good grief this is driving me nuts.
Should I tap his shoulder and ask politely for him to sit up? Should I suffer in silence and shoulder ache? Or maybe the best solution is to join the now wailing children three rows up.
Maybe their snacks and promises will save me.