Airports

I dropped Brahm off at the airport this morning and started reflecting on our situation as I drove away.  This past year and a bit has been quite different than I ever expected.  If you'd asked me a year and a half ago what I thought would be happening in my life right now, I don't think I would have expected to be a shiftworker, or actually using my engineering degree, or 9 months into a long-distance relationship.  Not that any of that is necessarily bad, because I also probably wouldn't have expected that by this point Brahm and I would be rolling in enough savings that we can pretty much buy any house we want when he moves back either.

Something that has definitely changed, and I'm sad about, is my overall attitude towards airports.  Going to the airport before all these big changes in our lives happened used to always fill me with a sense of excitement.  Even if I wasn't going somewhere fun myself, at least it meant someone else was going somewhere awesome or I was picking someone up from somewhere cool.  It would make me remember past vacations, or get excited for upcoming ones.  But now, much more often than not, going to the airport means going to work, or goodbye.

Sometimes though, it still means vacations, or getting to see Brahm again after several weeks apart.  But I can't wait for the day that those instances are the norm again rather than the exception.