EVERY TIME I RETURN FROM A TRIP and am tasked to sit down and write this column, I suffer from the same conundrum.
I should have a ton of new material to work with, but my brain can’t seem to coalesce any of it into a narrative.
At least, not one I feel like anyone would want to read.
It’s a classic water, water everywhere, nor any drop to drink type situation.
Invariably, I turn to others for help — and invariably it fails.
Or rather, I do.
“Write about being stranded at the airport with the rest of the entire world,” a friend said when I mentioned my problem. “Surely you can get something out of that. The entire world.”
And yes, I did spend nearly 24 hours at gate A-23 in Salt Lake City, bonding over shared travel trauma with harried strangers I’ll never see again.
But beyond it sucking for everybody, I don’t have a hot take.
“Talk about hiking to the top of Angel’s Landing and how, in a million years, you never thought you’d be the kind of person who would do that, never mind enjoy it,” another suggested.
To which I replied, “But what else? It was steep and kind of scary and also pretty awesome. I don’t have much more to say.”
More accurately, I can’t find a way to couch the experience — which was actually fairly mind-blowing — into 15 relatively concise, insightful and/or humorous inches, on deadline.
“Fine, then,” my best friend Lacey — whose surprise 50th birthday party was the impetus for my trip — said. “Write about me.”
I promised her I would.
Soon.
I just can’t form those thoughts right now either.
Truth be told, the only solid notion I can muster is how desperately I want to go back.
Back among the red rocks and the canyons.
Back to volunteer at this amazing animal sanctuary I visited called Best Friends.
Back to wide open spaces and fresh inspiration, new accomplishments and comfortable companionship.
Back to where the only thing missing was my dogs.
Well, and gainful employment.
Which I may not have here for much longer if I can’t get my head straight — and out of the Utah clouds.
Next week, y’all.
I swear to be settled back in, or at least to have a point.
(Hopefully all my fellow Delta flyers will be home by then, too. Phew. What a mess.)
KATIE LONG MCDOWELL is the managing editor/lifestyles columnist for The Dominion Post. Email kmcdowell@dominionpost.com
