I’m heading to Arizona to visit my sister Faye and look after her dog while she goes to Maui. It should be a pleasant trip. So naturally, I’m finding things to worry about.
Tonight I’ll stay at the Quality Inn in Des Moines. My flight leaves at eight tomorrow morning, and I need to be at the airport by six. Knowing me, I’ll probably get there at five-thirty. Apparently, I would rather spend an extra half hour waiting than spend it worrying about being late.
I’m not much of a world traveler. There are things to remember, bags to pack, and that nagging question: Have I forgotten something? I suspect plenty of people know that feeling, even those who travel more often than I do.
But when I think about what’s waiting for me, I feel better.
I’m looking forward to walking the dog to the coffee shop early in the morning. I also have plans to stop at AJ’s grocery store. Their deli has what they call sticky buns—pecan rolls held together with sugary stuff. I don’t know exactly what’s in it, but I know they’re delicious.
I’ll go to church, spend some time with Faye, and enjoy a change of scenery. Nothing particularly complicated. Those ordinary pleasures are what I’m looking forward to most.
It’s funny how getting ready for something enjoyable can make a person anxious. You can want to go and still feel uneasy about getting there. Both feelings can fit in the same suitcase.
For now, I’ll finish packing and make my way to Des Moines. Tomorrow I’ll take the next step.
And before long, I hope to have a dog beside me, a cup of coffee in my hand, and a pecan roll somewhere in my immediate future.
