I am a stress free traveler.
I don't get bothered by delays, weather conditions or mechanical difficulties.
I know there is only so much I can control when it comes to flying so I do what I can to keep myself sane.
Therefore, I pack food and reading material for the flight.
I always need at least two books with me at all times.
One that I am currently reading and another for when I am finished.
The minute I get done with the first one, the second one becomes the first one and then I have to go and buy a second one.
So, I am perpetually seeking the second book in case I don't like the first one and it becomes the second one prematurely.
The more I think about it, this must be why I didn't eat the apple.
If I ate it, what would I do when it was gone? And, so my story begins...
I was preparing for a business trip that would take me from my home in Ft.
Lauderdale to the city I grew up in, St.
Louis.
I consider myself a thrifty packer.
I have traveled a lot for different jobs over the years so I know how to economize.
I don't take a different pair of shoes for every day, keep my recreational attire to a minimum and refrain from the luxury of choices.
One outfit per day with absolutely no leeway.
Before 911 I was considered a phenomenon among fellow travelers.
I could actually "carry on" for a full seven days of travel.
However, now that we have so many limitations to bottle size, I am a baggage claim kinda girl.
Which by the way annoys me.
I am thoroughly impressed with the woman that can actually carry on these days.
What on earth does she do with her lotions? How does anyone exist without roll on deodorant? To allow us just three ounces of any product is simply ridiculous in my world.
I use three ounces in one sitting...
but that really has nothing to do with my apple.
Once the bag I plan to check is locked and loaded, I begin to gather the items I will bring on the plane.
Laptop, phone charger, work stuff, three ounces of hand lotion in a zip lock bag, makeup, money and most importantly, two books and food and an apple.
Because I travel a lot, I prefer food from my kitchen versus restaurants.
The luxury of eating out is long gone.
Give me a bologna sandwich and I am a happy camper, however, it really doesn't travel well.
There is nothing worse than sitting next to someone on the plane with a stinky meal.
Ever sit near a fellow eating tuna? It will solidify your view on politically correct plane food forever.
So, I pack turkey.
It's safe, tastes good at room temperature, and doesn't smell funny.
Along with my foot long sandwich (that way I can have half when I get on the plane and the other half when we are delayed), I pack red licorice, a small serving of Cheese Its, seven Hanover Old Tyme Pretzels, some grapes, a few cherry tomatoes, potato chips, and an apple.
An hour and a half until takeoff and I am heading down the Florida turnpike to the airport.
I am dropped off with an hour to check my bag for the unreasonable fee of $15, which is a definite discrimination toward today's lotion/potion carrier female, and begin my trip through security.
Off go my boots into one bin, displaying socks that have been previously examined for holes in honor of my grandmother.
(She taught me to never leave home with shabby underwear in case you were in an accident.
It would leave a bad impression when you were dying the emergency room.
As a little girl I was never sure if I was trying to impress the Doctors so they would keep me alive, God who has a dress code in heaven, or simply protecting Grandma's image.
) My laptop, purse, and briefcase all make it through security with no notice that my three ounces of hand lotion are not in a separate plastic bag but tucked right next to my two books and my bag full of nourishment.
I check the gate to make sure the flight is leaving on time and decide to visit the food court to see there is anything to add to my dining pleasure.
Although I don't really care for bananas, I decide why not?, and buy one for the price of an entire tree.
Ah, airports are the best when it comes to bargain hunting.
I enter the plane, find my window seat, and begin to settle in for my flight.
Book one goes in the seat pocket in front of me, my brief case and purse placed under the seat, and I open my goodie bag to have, as Winnie the Pooh would say "Just a little something".
The person sitting next to me has brought nothing.
Not a thing to read, no iPod and naturally no food.
Which only means they will be drooling the entire trip.
However, when it comes to my flight fare, I resist sharing unless the drooling gets out of hand.
Then a few of the seven pretzels are first to go.
I had been thinking about that apple the entire ride to the airport and place it on my lap to contemplate during takeoff.
But, there is no take off.
Instead, we sit for ninety minutes on the tarmac without air conditioning due to storms in the Midwest.
Remember I am a stress free traveler which is easy to be when you journey with lots of provisions.
So, I replace my apple and eat half of my turkey sandwich to kill time.
Finally, we are in the air and as I reach for the apple again, I decide I would be better off eating the banana since they don't travel so well.
By the time I arrived at my hotel in St.
Louis, I was down to one stick of licorice, half of the Cheese Its, two pretzels, (I shared with drooler boy) and my luscious red apple.
My work goes well throughout my visit.
I travel each day carrying my apple, with plans to have it during lunch.
But instead I bring it back to the hotel saving it for the next day.
My week is packed with dealing with clients, returning phone calls, and sending emails.
Soon I forget my precious apple lying at the bottom of my briefcase.
Finally my trip comes to an end and I begin the travel process once again.
However, this time I board the plane with simply a turkey wrap, a bag of chips and book number two.
I am a bit nervous that I don't have a back up to read but there was no time to buy another one.
I gobble up my meal shortly after takeoff with plans to buy something else when I change planes, but my flight is delayed and I barely make my connection.
As I prepare to pay $4 for a three ounce bag of trail mix from the flight attendant, I remember my apple.
I still purchase the snack but quickly rummage through my briefcase only to find one badly bruised piece of fruit.
It no longer tempts my taste buds.
I thought "I should have eaten it sooner".
Perhaps one day for my lunch.
Or, during my first flight out at the beginning of the week as I had originally planned.
Now, even one bite was no longer appetizing.
I had wasted a perfectly good apple.
For what? What was I saving it for? A better day? A more hungrier time? The more I thought about it the more I realized that I have been "saving apples" all of my life.
I wait to wear something new, knowing the right occasion is just around the corner.
I hold off on burning a unique candle which I love so much because I don't want to waste it.
I deny myself that last piece candy because I don't want the box to be empty.
I refrain from using too much of my special soap to make sure it will last longer.
My entire flight home was spent on this sad revelation.
During the following weeks I consistently caught myself over and over again practicing this odd habit of denial.
I noticed beautiful dishes unused passing the time in cabinets instead of on the dining room table.
I discovered a jacket with the tags still on it hanging in my closet instead of wrapped around my shoulders.
I remembered storing gifts for my loved ones to be given at just the right moment only to forget where I put them.
That apple becomes symbolic to me.
It represents all of the missed opportunities I didn't even know existed because I was waiting.
It is a reminder of moments of joy I overlooked because I chose to take care of the things I don't like to do first.
Waiting for a better time to do the things I love.
What if those times never come? What if I am unable to wear that jacket when I am ready? What if there is no one to share my table with me when the dishes appear? What if those loved ones are gone when the present is given? Now, I don't save it for later, wait for a better time, or hold off an experience of joy.
Now I eat the apple.
I don't get bothered by delays, weather conditions or mechanical difficulties.
I know there is only so much I can control when it comes to flying so I do what I can to keep myself sane.
Therefore, I pack food and reading material for the flight.
I always need at least two books with me at all times.
One that I am currently reading and another for when I am finished.
The minute I get done with the first one, the second one becomes the first one and then I have to go and buy a second one.
So, I am perpetually seeking the second book in case I don't like the first one and it becomes the second one prematurely.
The more I think about it, this must be why I didn't eat the apple.
If I ate it, what would I do when it was gone? And, so my story begins...
I was preparing for a business trip that would take me from my home in Ft.
Lauderdale to the city I grew up in, St.
Louis.
I consider myself a thrifty packer.
I have traveled a lot for different jobs over the years so I know how to economize.
I don't take a different pair of shoes for every day, keep my recreational attire to a minimum and refrain from the luxury of choices.
One outfit per day with absolutely no leeway.
Before 911 I was considered a phenomenon among fellow travelers.
I could actually "carry on" for a full seven days of travel.
However, now that we have so many limitations to bottle size, I am a baggage claim kinda girl.
Which by the way annoys me.
I am thoroughly impressed with the woman that can actually carry on these days.
What on earth does she do with her lotions? How does anyone exist without roll on deodorant? To allow us just three ounces of any product is simply ridiculous in my world.
I use three ounces in one sitting...
but that really has nothing to do with my apple.
Once the bag I plan to check is locked and loaded, I begin to gather the items I will bring on the plane.
Laptop, phone charger, work stuff, three ounces of hand lotion in a zip lock bag, makeup, money and most importantly, two books and food and an apple.
Because I travel a lot, I prefer food from my kitchen versus restaurants.
The luxury of eating out is long gone.
Give me a bologna sandwich and I am a happy camper, however, it really doesn't travel well.
There is nothing worse than sitting next to someone on the plane with a stinky meal.
Ever sit near a fellow eating tuna? It will solidify your view on politically correct plane food forever.
So, I pack turkey.
It's safe, tastes good at room temperature, and doesn't smell funny.
Along with my foot long sandwich (that way I can have half when I get on the plane and the other half when we are delayed), I pack red licorice, a small serving of Cheese Its, seven Hanover Old Tyme Pretzels, some grapes, a few cherry tomatoes, potato chips, and an apple.
An hour and a half until takeoff and I am heading down the Florida turnpike to the airport.
I am dropped off with an hour to check my bag for the unreasonable fee of $15, which is a definite discrimination toward today's lotion/potion carrier female, and begin my trip through security.
Off go my boots into one bin, displaying socks that have been previously examined for holes in honor of my grandmother.
(She taught me to never leave home with shabby underwear in case you were in an accident.
It would leave a bad impression when you were dying the emergency room.
As a little girl I was never sure if I was trying to impress the Doctors so they would keep me alive, God who has a dress code in heaven, or simply protecting Grandma's image.
) My laptop, purse, and briefcase all make it through security with no notice that my three ounces of hand lotion are not in a separate plastic bag but tucked right next to my two books and my bag full of nourishment.
I check the gate to make sure the flight is leaving on time and decide to visit the food court to see there is anything to add to my dining pleasure.
Although I don't really care for bananas, I decide why not?, and buy one for the price of an entire tree.
Ah, airports are the best when it comes to bargain hunting.
I enter the plane, find my window seat, and begin to settle in for my flight.
Book one goes in the seat pocket in front of me, my brief case and purse placed under the seat, and I open my goodie bag to have, as Winnie the Pooh would say "Just a little something".
The person sitting next to me has brought nothing.
Not a thing to read, no iPod and naturally no food.
Which only means they will be drooling the entire trip.
However, when it comes to my flight fare, I resist sharing unless the drooling gets out of hand.
Then a few of the seven pretzels are first to go.
I had been thinking about that apple the entire ride to the airport and place it on my lap to contemplate during takeoff.
But, there is no take off.
Instead, we sit for ninety minutes on the tarmac without air conditioning due to storms in the Midwest.
Remember I am a stress free traveler which is easy to be when you journey with lots of provisions.
So, I replace my apple and eat half of my turkey sandwich to kill time.
Finally, we are in the air and as I reach for the apple again, I decide I would be better off eating the banana since they don't travel so well.
By the time I arrived at my hotel in St.
Louis, I was down to one stick of licorice, half of the Cheese Its, two pretzels, (I shared with drooler boy) and my luscious red apple.
My work goes well throughout my visit.
I travel each day carrying my apple, with plans to have it during lunch.
But instead I bring it back to the hotel saving it for the next day.
My week is packed with dealing with clients, returning phone calls, and sending emails.
Soon I forget my precious apple lying at the bottom of my briefcase.
Finally my trip comes to an end and I begin the travel process once again.
However, this time I board the plane with simply a turkey wrap, a bag of chips and book number two.
I am a bit nervous that I don't have a back up to read but there was no time to buy another one.
I gobble up my meal shortly after takeoff with plans to buy something else when I change planes, but my flight is delayed and I barely make my connection.
As I prepare to pay $4 for a three ounce bag of trail mix from the flight attendant, I remember my apple.
I still purchase the snack but quickly rummage through my briefcase only to find one badly bruised piece of fruit.
It no longer tempts my taste buds.
I thought "I should have eaten it sooner".
Perhaps one day for my lunch.
Or, during my first flight out at the beginning of the week as I had originally planned.
Now, even one bite was no longer appetizing.
I had wasted a perfectly good apple.
For what? What was I saving it for? A better day? A more hungrier time? The more I thought about it the more I realized that I have been "saving apples" all of my life.
I wait to wear something new, knowing the right occasion is just around the corner.
I hold off on burning a unique candle which I love so much because I don't want to waste it.
I deny myself that last piece candy because I don't want the box to be empty.
I refrain from using too much of my special soap to make sure it will last longer.
My entire flight home was spent on this sad revelation.
During the following weeks I consistently caught myself over and over again practicing this odd habit of denial.
I noticed beautiful dishes unused passing the time in cabinets instead of on the dining room table.
I discovered a jacket with the tags still on it hanging in my closet instead of wrapped around my shoulders.
I remembered storing gifts for my loved ones to be given at just the right moment only to forget where I put them.
That apple becomes symbolic to me.
It represents all of the missed opportunities I didn't even know existed because I was waiting.
It is a reminder of moments of joy I overlooked because I chose to take care of the things I don't like to do first.
Waiting for a better time to do the things I love.
What if those times never come? What if I am unable to wear that jacket when I am ready? What if there is no one to share my table with me when the dishes appear? What if those loved ones are gone when the present is given? Now, I don't save it for later, wait for a better time, or hold off an experience of joy.
Now I eat the apple.
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