1:41

I'm writing this on the train to New Haven, one of my favorite cities in the world.

 

As soon as I arrive, I'm meeting on old friend for coffee.

 

We're meeting for coffee at a shop that's opened since I was last in the city.

 

Then tomorrow it's more coffee, more friends, coffee, food, dinner parties, and on and on for the next ten days.

 

Let's just say this: I'm in a pretty good mood.

 

Which is lucky, considering the events that transpired at 1:41 pm this afternoon.

 

At 1:41 this afternoon, I approached the American Airlines kiosk in the Detroit Airport and swiped by credit card to pull up my reservation.

 

It was in this moment, just before hitting print, that I decided to double check for my ID.

 

A quick flip through my wallet set my stomach turning.

 

And my heartbeat racing.

 

Isn't funny, how the absence of a thin piece of plastic can set your whole world spinning?

 

This is the moment I want to talk about: that moment when your chosen future chooses to leave you.

 

Your friends cancel dinner. Your blind date reconsiders. Your parents refuse to let you go to the party after the football game even though you're an eight grader and so are obviously, like totally mature enough to handle it, Mom.

 

The moment when you realize you have to postpone your trip, reschedule your flight and drive back to Owosso to get your passport.

 

This is the moment when you find out who you are. How do you speak to the people around you? How do you speak to yourself?

 

And most importantly – what alternative future do you create?

 

 

 

 

p.s. At 2:18 pm I called my brilliant Aunt MaryAnn who'd just dropped me off at the airport. She rooted around in the car I had just left in her driveway, found my ID on the floor, and drove it over to me. At 3:38 pm, I boarded my flight and we left on schedule. Ah, the blessings of fate and family.