Look, maybe you’ve been on lots of planes since Omicron became a thing. Covid grounded me and I am flying for the first time since 2019.
As it happens, returning to the routine of bad planning the night before, leaving home a little too late, missing the “now you can relax” train, and hustling into the terminal stressed and sweaty turns out, for me at least, to be easy. Like riding a bike, I just can’t forget how to do it.
The airport itself, however, rather than buzzing with passengers and pandemic protocols is empty. Ghosted. Tumbleweeds. In the before times you would only find an airport like this at 2:00 am or when traveling from nowhere to nowhere.
I hope fewer flights is good for the planet and that the money being printed to keep these corporations afloat trickles down. And hating airports is fine with me. I’d be happy if they never return to capacity again.
But I wonder when life will feel more like its own thing rather than a reminder of what was, more like dawn, less like dusk, a new somewhere.
Yes. Flew first class two weeks ago bc of a ghosted moment… strange.