The Lull

When you fly from the US to Europe you reach a part of the flight where you nearly go mad from the anticipation of finally arriving at your destination. You've had your dinner, watched a couple movies and you flip through the in-flight music stations over and over and over. You're somewhere over Iceland and there's a good three hours until you land. You're sick of reading, you're antsy from sitting still for so long, the drone of the engines has bored into your brain and you can't see a thing outside because it's still dark. You'd like to get up and maybe wash your face and pee but the guy sitting next to you is still asleep and you're just hoping he'll wake up on his own any minute now and let you out as he didn't seem to be the sort that would relish being awakened by you.

And that, my friends, is the point we've reached with NaBloPoMo. That holy-shit-is-this-ever-going-to-end-?-point where bailing looks tempting but it's too late now because you'd never survive that 35,000 foot drop. And skipping a day of posting is that plunge you can't overcome.

I'm hoping that in the coming week something - anything! - will happen to give me something about which to write. It would be like finally getting breakfast served to you two hours before landing. It's not great but it's destracting and it helps kill some time.

In a week it'll be that time when the flight attendents collect the blankets and the headphones. Damn near home free.