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Wednesday, July 17, 2019

Exhaustion

The plane had a problem.  It required a visit from Maintenance.  We sat on the tarmac, with the door open, the temperature outside hovering around 110.  Hot doesn't begin to describe it.

More visitors from Maintenance arrived.  The Pilot left the cabin.  Another worker brought a new computer, at which point the flight crew thought to make an announcement.  Information is a crucial component of calmness while trapped in a steamy silver tube.  Spending an hour sweating in ignorance left 150 people on the verge of mutiny.  There was no water.  There was just angst.

It should be just a few more minutes, folks was what they told us 10 minutes before they allowed us to deplane and cool off in the terminal.  I washed my face alongside a dozen other women who were in various stages of distress.  But, the air conditioning worked inside, there was free water or soda at the desk, and an hour or so later we were back on the plane.

There was applause when the last Maintenance guy deplaned.

We landed closer to midnight than dinnertime.  We were hungry, but we were more exhausted.  It was only 9pm in Tucson, but we'd driven and waited and waited some more and it's always a good idea to get on the new time zone as soon as possible so we chatted with SIR and Little Cuter for a while then went downstarirs to sleep.

Sleep was an illusion, a fantasy, a wished for outcome that was just out of reach.  My brain said it was early, my body screamed otherwise.  I tossed and turned and readjusted and reorganized and debated getting up and reading The Mueller Report.

At some point I did fall asleep.

Not very many hours later the door opened, the lights went on, and FlapJilly was jumping on the bed, delighted to share the fact that it was Morning Time.

Now, there is nothing in the world I love more than hugging my grandchild, feeling her arms around my neck, her juicy kisses smothering my face.  But getting out of bed this morning was truly an act of mind over matter.  My eyes refused to focus.  My stomach was unhappy.  FlapJilly chose my clothes because I was incapable of making even the simplest decision in the bedroom, where the pillows were calling my name.

I perked up and we had The Best Day Ever according to the kid who stayed home to play with Gramma and Grampa.  We ate out for breakfast and lunch, we ran around the backyard, we went to Sky Zone, the trampoline jumping place, and the grocery store and picked up Mommy and played with Giblet and she was so tired that she couldn't fall asleep.

Now, I'm on the couch watching American Ninja Warrior with the grownups and trying my damndest to keep my eyes open.  It's 9:30.  I'm exhausted.

There's a reason that you age out of childbearing.  I'm proving that fact right now.  It's a good thing there is spell check and that erasing errors is easy.  This post has been a mess.  I'm going to sleep.

2 comments:

  1. Keeping you waiting in an un-airconditioned plane is just inhumane. At least the let you out after awhile. I hate flying, just hate it.

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    Replies
    1. It was filled with hope that we'd be gone in a short while. The lack of information was annoying. The heat was stifling. Flying is not as much fun as it used to be, for sure.
      a/b

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