Squirrels on Planes

Ever been in a holding pattern over Atlanta-Hartsfield airport? Circling and circling and circling but getting no closer to flexing your landing gear and kissing Mother Earth?

Yeah? Well, metaphorically, that’s me today.

Leg jiggling maniacally in my seat, thumbnail chomped down to a nub, all I can do is sit there and wait for a person I’m never going to lay eye or nervous breath on to give the  “Ok, you’re clear to land” go-ahead.

The first hour or two is difficult, but patience can be maintained. Sort of. In the abstract, at least.

By the third and fourth hours, however, patience has been squashed like a bug with its guts hanging all over the bottom of your shoe.

Five hours in, you start pressing your face to the window looking for the refueling plane that’s got to be about to shimmy up to your plane’s butt.  You wonder if you could catch a ride with the refueling guys.

Six hours in, you’ve reached a fugue state. There’s no information going in or out of your brain, except for the vague suspicion the stranger next to you is pelting spitballs into your ear.

Seven hours in, the plane lands but all the light bulbs inside your head have long since burned out and gone dark. The shell that had once been you is finally hauled off of the plane and deposited head first into a trash bin to the cheery, grating words of “Welcome to Atlanta. We hoped you enjoyed your flight.”

???

Yep, it’s one of those “???” days at Chloe’s.

Feel free to exit now. Emergency chutes have been deployed for your convenience.

*chuckles tiredly*

I’m tired of waiting. (Waiting on Writhe’s release, waiting on what the next step should be in pursuing a literary agent, waiting, waiting…)

For me, the main trouble with a writing career is the waiting.

I hate waiting. It makes me squirrelly.

And we’re not talking the cute little squirrel who innocently nibbles on a nut while swishing its long bushy tail at you.

No, we’re talking the crazy squirrels that climb up the side of your house and bang on your window panes while chattering away in some kind of shriek-speak.

Yeah, those.

I’ll leave you with that freaky vision and the phantom planes circling overhead.

Enjoy your day… I’ll just be here waiting. *lol*

Until tonight…

Chloe