Sitting in Chicago O’Hare. It’s a giant airport. It’s like a BIG city. I swear it was about five miles to the terminal in which I now sit waiting for my connecting flight to Zurich on my way to the Cannes film fest. It occurs to me only now that I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing and no business pretending as though I do. But we forge ahead now that we have the room, the flights, the babysitter. But speaking of which, I really thought I was a brave person until I had to say goodbye to the kid. I really miss the kid.
And I know that I’m supposed to not miss her because I’m “working” and she “understands.” But I worry and I fret and I have the dreaded separation anxiety. I know that I need to drop that like a bad habit because cut-to – she’s 35 and won’t leave the nest.
Incidentally, I keep hearing the following things over and over:
The threat level is at orange. Do not leave any bags unattended or they will be collected by the Chicago Police Department.
The city of Chicago would like to remind you to cover your mouth when you cough or sneeze. Please ensure you wash your hands after you cough or sneeze.
I feel lucky I’m doing neither.