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Tues 4 Sept. Gatwick

This might be a bad sign, but I’ve had Fiery Crash by Andrew Bird in my head since I woke up this morning. (If anyone is reading this then it wasn’t that bad a sign.) BA let me down again, no upgrade possible without buying a new ticket at 700 quid (about 1500 bucks)…not even the slightest seat change possible. I suppose I survived nine hours here I can survive ten back; but I sure hope the sound works on the movies this time. Or my seat neighbor has sleeping pills.

London has been as dreamy as I had hoped. Saturday night’s party was lovely, a little post-Greenbelt experience that summoned all the great memories of the weekend prior. Sunday’s Design Museum visit and dinner and drinks by the Thames was wonderful. And yesterday’s Tate, somewhat spontaneous lunch with Steve, National Gallery, and then dinner and drinks with Jen and Steve was sublime. And of course plenty of tea and coziness at my new London crash pad.

I miss London and all it entails already, and am anxious, mostly about the flight (comfort not safety), but also about starting this new venture tomorrow, and the tide of work that and all my other projects require. I suppose all I can do is survive a minute at a time, thankful for all the opportunities and people in my life, no matter how overwhelming or frustratingly distant they may be. The season of harvest is nearly upon us.

I must go look at the boards now, as I have finished my Eat. bircher muesli and have not been listening very carefully to boarding announcements. Only one I keep hearing is Dubai…wrong direction…albeit more interesting…