Plan B. If there is a Plan B, then at some point, we don't want or believe in Plan A enough. This happened to me today.
I was at the Scranton-Wilkes Barre Airport, and out flight was delayed. Apparently, the pilot missed the runway and was diverted to Allentown (1 hour away). I had a hefty layover before my connecting flight from Chicago, and it looked like if the plane came back, I would still make my connection and get home by a little before midnight tonight. I was listening to a LOT of negativity around me, and the line at the counter kept getting longer and longer. I was on the floor, plugged into an outlet entering notes into my computer, so it was a convenient place to evesdrop.
Great news! the plane was going to refuel and make it back. We could feasibly get off the ground by 6:30 (original time was 5), get to Chi-town by 7:30, and I could easily make my 8:55 connection. I was feeling great, feeling the zone. I kept checking myself in order not to give energy (no judgements!) to the dramas that were happening around me. I heard people making plans and backup plans.
When that was all done, I went to the counter to see what my options for getting to SFO were "just in case." She gave me options, and I realized I could have driven to Philly or Newark to catch another flight, but it was too late for that. Soooooooooooo... "Just in case" there was a 6:25am flight from Newark available, but I would have to rent a car and get myself the 2.5 hours east. She put a couple of options in my record, and I sort of joked,"I don't think I should make the backup plan, cuz I have a good feeling about getting on the plane tonight (in spite of everyone/everything else). She smiled and said she had a good feeling too. But the backup plan was entered in my record. Within 5 minutes, the plane (which was early!) had missed the runway again and was again diverted back to Allentown! Seriously!?!? Seriously. It was as if it all shifted when Plan B went into play.
so now, no one was going to make their connections, and other plans started flying, the line got long again, and my option to drive to Newark and get on a plane tonight had closed. I got weirdly calm after trying to find a decent rent a car, etc... I just didn't want to have to drive to Newark. Lo and behold, there was another flight, also delayed, that could get me to Newark that night. At least I wouldn't have to drive. They had told us to go downstairs where there would be 4 lines at the ticket counter to help with re-booking. I hung around upstairs, cuz I was next, and at some point, I realized that the family in front of me were starting to go ballistic, and it looked like they could be a while. A long while. So I left the area, passed the security check in and when I got there, there was 1, ok, maybe 2 - but iffy - lines, it was looooooong and i was at the end. I wanted to get on that delayed flight to Newark. Called the husband. Nothing reasonable could be done on that end. I called United reservations, and they re-booked me on the Continental flight. It took some doing, because the person on the phone showed the flight as already departed. I got my ticket, went back through security, went to Gate 1. I was the only one on this prop plane. Again, I'm feeling quite OK with everything. Like I was in a bubble. I had a feeling that once I got to Newark, there would be a delayed flight to SFO and I was fine with getting a hotel, or even better, getting on a plane.
Long story shorter - there was a plane. I tried to get on it, but what had worked before didn't work now, I was 6th on the standby list with a checked in full flight, and the flight went from 10:40 departure to 11, to 11:30. I'd be getting in around 3:30 in the a.m. So, I went with Plan Whatever Felt Right in the Moment. I got a room. It's nice. Didn't break the bank. I'll sleep, and if we take off, I'll be home in time to teach my noon class.
I think that Plan B was the defining moment. But I felt oddly fine and wierdly calm as I reminded myself of the illusion of life and how nothing really matters, and tested to see how long I could be the eye of the hurricane.
thanks to Plan B, I learned that. For real. And now, it's 10:49pm, and it's about time to do what I came here to do -- rest.
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