Driving home from work last night I watched the planes circle overhead as they approached the Toronto airport. It was that really busy time of day when there is a steady stream of planes arriving - I always wonder where they are coming from. You see the lights and watch the plane drop down as it gets closer. Then another takes its place and so on.
On certain days when I am feeling a bit trapped, the sight of them can make me so nostalgic that I feel almost ill. It makes me ponder if I should return to my wandering ways. There was a period in my life (not too long ago) that I flew to work in another city every Sunday and home again most Fridays. I spent about seven years on the road. Lately I think more and more that I might return to this type of work - sometime. That possibility seemed more real over the last couple of weeks as I had a position to consider that would involve a lot of travel - to the USA and Europe. In the end, it wasn't the right position, but they described a future opening to me that is pretty well how I would describe my perfect job, if asked.
Something to mull over. That has made the planes this week bittersweet.
I wonder if I really could go back to that way of life. It is alluring and scary all at once. You can lose yourself in your schedule - there are time when you know, no one really knows where you are. There is a lot of freedom. There is also a lot of waiting around in airport lounges and a lot of dreary hotel rooms. Times when you want company and no one is around. Times when you arrive home and no one cares - your friends forget to check if you're around sometimes. But I really miss the travel all the same. Once you have that in your system it always beckons. Like an addiction - not a healthy one either.
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