At the very last minute, I decided to fly out to DC (well, Crystal City, actually, which is the travel equivalent of buying a vinyl rather than a leather couch). The chance to hang out with a whole bunch of incredibly cool librarians, talk about whatever comes to mind, and do so without registering for an actual conference just doesn’t come around all that often for me, so I’m pretty thrilled.
Actually, in my better moments I’m thrilled. I think of seeing some of my best friends in the world, of joking and being serious, of eating out, and of generally doing whatever seems best to do at the time, and these things seem very very good. Then I remember that doing this requires that I do unpleasant things like pack and figure out logistics and in many other small ways step beyond my comfort zone, my routine. These things feel much less good. In my worse moments these things are nearly enough to make me question the whole prospect of the trip.
This is a pretty typical set of emotions before I travel, though, so I’m not surprised. The day before the trip I always wish I’d just decided to stay home. But then I get to the airport, through security, and up to the gate. I sit down to wait for boarding, and suddenly everything seems better. At that point all the preparations over which I have any control are done and all I have to do is go with the flow. At that point, I can blend into an anonymous crowd and watch people or daydream or read or do whatever comes to mind. At that point, the trip finally starts to feel like a good idea.
I’m looking forward to that moment. And this time I’m particularly looking forward to what comes after I reach Crystal City since I’ll get to meet some new people and reunite with some of the people who know me best. And I can’t wait to experience my very first LobbyCon.
So all in all, things are going well. And now I’ll concentrate on the glorious potential of this trip as I go out and run some errands and then pack.