One week later . . .

Well . . . it has officially been a week since I packed up my bags and flew the coop.

Last Tuesday, I spent the day cleaning up my apartment. Dusting the nooks and crannies, vacuuming, laundering the rugs and dishrags, washing my sheets and towels, and just getting everything in place. Then, with my bag packed neatly, with all of my new summer clothes and sandals, I headed for the airport.

With my flight scheduled for 6:15, I was ready and in place by 4:30. Thus, I ordered a McDonald's salad and iced coffee, and took a seat near my gate. I began reading Stephenie Meyer's new novella, The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner, and ate my salad contently.

. . . 6:00 rolled around and I headed to the restroom to prepare for my 1 hr 20 min flight to Kansas. But alas, we did not board. Delayed. Due to thunder and threatening weather. And of course my insides began to boil with nerves as I thought to myself -- they will have us sit here until midnight, when they will finally say that the flight is canceled, and then I will have to take the el all the way home . . . in the rain.

But . . . of course, a little faith should have told me that we would make it. By 7:30 we began to board. Phew. And by 7:45 we were on our way to Kansas City.

Prior to boarding, I eavesdropped on the conversations around me -- tuning into a particularly interesting one between a young woman and a man. I have found that the nature of the airport is such, people are friendly, but rarely talk to each other extensively until there is a delay. And all of a sudden, with the time of departure in the indefinite future, the person next to you becomes your best friend. And these two started in on the details of their life, unaware that the 20-something girl next to them was listening in on their every word.

Well, overall they were slightly boring, but the woman had written a book. She was a teacher, but had always created little stories in her head, so she wrote a romance novel. And it got me thinking about how I am writing a book, and all of a sudden my fingers itched to just lay the words down on the page and pour out the story within my mind.

And as we soared through the air, I opened my computer and began to write. With my complementary beverage and my imagination, the time flew by.

After a few days in Kansas with the G-rents, my mom and I drove home to Tulsa. Now every morning -- I wake up and eat my cereal; then as Supernatural plays in the background, I drink my coffee and write. I have written everyday and it feels really fulfilling to have my imagination working again in the context of my story. And to be spending my time engaged in writing and not idly wasted watching too much t.v.

And now my story has really taken flight.