Year Three. Month One. #SAN.

Work life isn't so bad when this is your office view.

I'm sitting on an airplane at 37,000 feet, somewhere over California when I hear it.

"I just hate flying."

The comment comes from another passenger, someone for whom life in the clouds is not a dream. And honestly, I get it.

I have my moments of frustration.

The impatient airplane boarders, stepping on the backs of my feet in the jet bridge as I politely organize my carry ons so I can quickly and efficiently take my seat once I get onboard.

The snorers. The arm rest claimers. The smelly ones.

My office seat for the past two years.

But in the end, all that doesn't matter. I can look past the small annoyances and stare in wonder out the window because, as living legend and comedy god Louis CK once said, "you're sitting in a chair... IN THE SKY."

Take-off: It still gets me. The feeling as your stomach drops and your soul soars and you maybe feel like you're falling in love for the first time, every time.

The Cabin: The strangely amazing order of several dozen or even hundred people arranged tidily in rows, awaiting a tiny, glorious beverage in a little plastic cup.

The Flight Crew: Whether it be my co-workers or another airline generously offering me a cabin seat to where I need to go, this team of pilots, pursers and cabin crew seamlessly keeps order in a flying metal tube while somehow keeping their sanity. Spectacular.

These are the people who are going to get you where you need to go, and they're probably going to have fun doing so.

The Scenery: Have you ever looked out the window at 37,000 feet because your pilots called you and said, "look outside; we're doing a lap for you" and what they meant was that they were circling around Mt. Rainier because of flow but mostly because you once mentioned you wanted a close-up photo at sunset and then you hang up the phone and it's all so beautiful that you actually cry a little?


Or landing into Tokyo, or Buenos Aires, or Amsterdam for the first time and that landing was like the crescendo of an orchestrated masterpiece: the miracle of an A380 or 777 landing, light as a bird, into a land of unknown adventure and wonder and ohmygoodness lets go places.

I love flying.

It's magic.

Airplanes + Pacific Northwest Sunsets are all I need in life <3 <3 <3

My mind snaps back to the present as the beverage cart reaches the row in front of me. As the flight attendant hands over a bag of peanuts, the passenger makes a face and asks a question.

"So, how do you work on airplanes every day? I hate flying."

The flight attendant smiles and pauses. She looks over to the window at the inky black sky and tiny twinkling lights on the ground. She feels the aircraft shift ever-so-slightly and marvels at the fact that the only thing below her Dansko clogs and the ground below is a cargo hold and 37,000 feet of empty space. She glances at her co-workers, the cabin around her and thinks of the two pilots behind that flight deck door, steering this great metal bird through the dark night. And then she remembers something: Her first flight as a cabin crewmember, the thrill of take-off as she sat in her jumpseat, the rush of announcements, service, clean-up and cabin prep and the wonder of landing back onto terra firma, her mind and heart already eager to return to the skies.

Let's go places.

The flight attendant's smile widens as she hands the passenger a beverage napkin.

"That's too bad. Because I actually love flying."

Me too, sister. Me too.


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