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Thursday, February 15, 2007 On Flying from Chicago in the Middle of a Snowstorm and Missing the First Piece of Training for My New Job I'm stretched across two cramped seats on a flight six hours delayed, still trapped at the gate, de-icing. Outside the snow is still pouring, buffeted by the winds that make clearing runways near impossible--yet for all that, the storm seems mild to cause so many delays and flight cancellations, hundreds in all. A woman across from me is snoring, her body sprawled across the entire middle row. We're lucky: our flight, though hours behind, is less than half full and thus relatively spacious. The passengers grow impatient but are surprisingly calm--I'm still waiting for the riot to start. Yet I'm fortunate. Though I'll miss my first meeting in LA, the laid-back happy hour introduction of all the other new market managers, at least I'm not worried about missing connecting flights to Australia, as many of the other passengers are. With the progressive delays I could have just stayed home, gotten something somewhat productive done. Here I am distracted, unable to focus enough to even read a novel: Murakami's Norwegian Wood  . The powers that be didn't start pushing back our departure time until I was already at O'Hare.Labels: work ^ Top | 2:44 AM | | | 
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