In The Nap Room At The Airport

I am in the Detroit airport waiting for my flight to Paris.

It’s a 10 hour layover so G booked me 4 hours in a nap room. They’re called “Minute Suites.” It’s basically a closet with a desk, a banquette to sleep on and a door that closes so you can get a break from the circus of the airport.

I’m a big fan of nap rooms. I think they should be institutionalized. I longed for one in Grad school when I had to spend all day on campus and needed a place other than a ratty mattress in the basement of the library to take a snooze.

I used to fantasized escaping my dismal Admissions job by tunneling through the back of a storage closet in my office and making a hideaway there where no one could find me.

Where is she? Her car’s here.

I have one more hour in this nap room then I have to go back out into the circus of the airport. This next flight is overnight and I will land in Paris on Saturday morning and meet my daughter who is wending her way there from Oregon.

Saturday is supposed to be sunny and beautiful. We will run around Paris in our jet-lagged glory, eating all the bread, drinking all the wine, seeing all the sights, then, on Sunday and Monday it will rain and we will spend all day in the museum looking at Rothko paintings.

I will be posting on my instagram account at mainstreetyoga so if you want to see bad photos, go there.

I have no bandwidth for a proper post this week, and I am writing on the WordPress app on my IPad, so god knows what this will look like on the reader’s end, so sorry in advance.

Je vais en Paris!