It’s 10 am on a week day and I’m the same train I take to work, only by this time I’m more than an hour late and I’m skipping the second to last stop on this train for the last stop on the line.

I’ve lived all of my life in this city and I’ve never actually taken the train to O’hare with the intention of getting on a plane and going somewhere else. 

When my friends and I were in high school we thought it was fun for some reason to take the blue line all the way to the airport and then back.

Good Lord, why are we such dorks as teenagers?

My usual stop is next and I’m so happy to not be gathering my things right now and making my way to the doors. Instead I get to sit here with my incredibly well packed carry-on and wave goodbye as we pass up the suburb I spend every day working in the exciting international shiiping industry, and take my happy self to security gate (because I checked in online) and board a plane for beautiful Miami.