Imagine you’re feeling kind of flaccid. You’ve spent the past two days in your first-ever writing workshop, where you’ve revealed your incomplete book to an actual literary professional. In the process, you adorned your “I’ve got it going on” blouse with sweat stains down both sides from underarm to hem, and you almost burst into tears during your critique more than once. You realized that you know absolutely nothing about the game of writing, but you practically turned into a giggling tot when someone in the business told you that – maybe, perhaps – you’re a good writer.
You come away knowing that you have a lot of work to do. On no sleep for two straight nights, you find yourself flying across the country to yet another conference to get continuing education that’s required for both licenses you hold. Oh, it’s all happening in your happy place, making the trip worth it, because, let’s face it, the mind-numbingly-boring class about the latest changes to generally accepted accounting principles isn’t EVER going to do it for you.
You’re wandering through the Atlanta airport, too tired to even pay attention to things like arrows that point to the correct train for your terminal, causing you to stand in line for the wrong one for precious connecting minutes. Finally, you see the curving arrow – right in front of your face all along – that indicates the correct train, and you drag your bags and your exhausted butt in that general direction.
Then, you wait, the entire construct of the airport these days. Waiting. At least you wait in the cool sushi restaurant in E concourse with a handsome companion who happens to be your soul mate.
When you head for the gate, you realize that it’s in a part of E concourse you’ve never before visited – Gate E18. As you’re walking to the end, you look to your left, and you see…….this:
Can anybody say, “Schwing!”