i am on the wrong continent. i was supposed to leave new york on saturday and fly back to madrid, but something was pulling at me, keeping me here. my gut was telling me not to go, and as my mother lovingly told me: i should follow my gut; it has not led me astray thus far.
part of the issue was that i failed in my efforts to get alitalia to book me on a direct flight back to madrid on a different airline. and the idea of boarding one of their planes and handing them back my property was making me queasy.
and then there were the patriots, who were playing in what i consider to be the best day of football -- the conference championship games. the opportunity to watch football in the afternoon on a high def tv was almost excuse enough not to go.
and there were a bunch of other small reasons, but mostly i just wasn't ready to leave quite yet. and why live this lifestyle, why have this type of freelance non-career if not to be able to be spontaneous?
so i didn't go to newark on saturday morning. instead i called my boss and convinced him to buy me a new (direct) flight back to madrid on friday evening on a real airline, in exchange for working one more week in new york. so i'm still here.
i've heard a tinge of concern coming out of madrid that this might mean that i'm not ever coming back, that i'm going to stay in new york permanently. fear not my dear friends, i'll be back on saturday morning, ready to spend a fun weekend with you all. this is merely a few extra days, one more paycheck, a different flight and a love for a little team that you may have heard of. they're 18-0 and they're going to the superbowl and i love them.