I fell asleep last night on the floor next to Odie's toddler bed. At 0430 I awoke to a bang on the wall--he had dropped his sippy cup. It startled us both and my first sight this morning as I bolted upright was looking right into his eyes, since he bolted upright, as well. While a 2-year-old has the mystical ability to suddenly fall back asleep, I do not. I laid him down with SW and began the day in the dark.
It proved to be very productive. With everyone asleep I managed to catch up on a lot of stuff. By 0600 the sun was rising, and it was in the upper 50's. I decided to go for a run.
I'm not sure what happened. I've grown to enjoy running a lot more than I used to, since now I don't constantly feel like I'm going to have a heart attack, or my hip feels like it's going to explode. But I still would rather crash on the couch than go run. For some reason, this morning was different.
The sun rose while I ran--lost in "Panama" by Van Halen. I've heard the song a million times, but today I almost danced. I was completely elated. Then it hit me:
I'm going to fly again.
I've known for a short while that I was assigned to go back to fly. It's pretty uncommon for a graduate of ACSC to get that opportunity, so of course I was happy. We're going back to Del Rio, TX--the same place I flew with students last time, and in the same squadron. But being bogged down by thesis papers, language instruction, and tests, I hadn't given it much thought. All those (except two more tests) are behind me now. I guess it just really hadn't hit me yet until this morning.
I'm going to fly a T-6 Texan II at Laughlin AFB. For real. After sitting for four years and typing on computers, I am getting to go back to the one job I have loved more than anything else I have ever done.
What a way to start the day. By the time I got home I was far from exhuasted--I was on cloud nine.