My flight was canceled… the one they put me on as meant to leave at 3.30pm.

We left at 8.

I even had my first aborted landing. Full throttle and nose up.

I didn’t immediately realise anything was wrong. I felt the lady beside me flinch. I glanced over.

Something wasn’t right.

No it wasn’t the daisy yellow jumper with a lime green scarf.

Nor was it the stereotypical texas perm, or the overdone sparkly chain covered purse under her arm.

Despite all these things that could have seemed strange… it was the look on her face that got me.

A little shocked, a little nervous – as the plane drove forward with the engines screaming.

I think I must have landed in [url=http://www.blipfoto.com/search.php?username=&pic_day=any&pic_month=any&pic_year=any&alldates=1&tags=wellington&title=&search_mode=Perform+search]wellington[/url] one too many times… accelerating at full throttle onto the runway didn’t seem out of the ordinary.

but I digress.

I left at 8am, and it was 11 by the time I got home tonight. All for a 90min meeting.

It was about 10am when I saw this guy… I wondered why he looked so sick of the place…

12 hours later I now know exactly how he felt.

My mum once explained to me that flying is both the most efficient, and the slowest way to travel anywhere. I think today I understand.

P.S. Just back blipped for yesterday as I had a late dinner with a supplier.